《Chronicles Of The Crafting Hero》
Chapter 1: A New Beginning
The midday sun beat down on Tyler¡¯s shoulders, the heat shimmering off the grimy asphalt of the city street. He walked with a slump, his shoulders bowed under the weight of disappointment. The crisp white envelope, still slightly creased from his nervous grip, felt heavy in his pocket ¨C a tangible reminder of the rejection he¡¯d just received. Around him, the city throbbed with a chaotic energy: the blare of car horns, the rhythmic thump of distant construction, the cacophony of a thousand conversations blending into a dull roar. Yet, Tyler seemed oblivious to it all, lost in his own thoughts. The buildings, a monotonous grey and brown, loomed over him like indifferent giants, their shadows stretching long and distorted in the harsh sunlight. He passed overflowing trash cans, their contents spilling onto the sidewalk, a stark contrast to the meticulously manicured lawns visible through the wrought-iron fences of the wealthier neighborhoods further down the street. His worn sneakers slapped against the cracked pavement, each step a small, defeated thud in the symphony of urban noise. The air hung heavy with the smell of exhaust fumes, cheap takeout, and something vaguely floral from a wilting bouquet discarded in an alleyway. His apartment building, a drab structure promising little comfort, was just a few blocks away, a destination offering only the bleak solace of solitude.
"Two months," he muttered to himself, the words catching in the back of his throat. "Two months of applications, of interviews, of polite rejections. And for what? A certificate gathering dust on my shelf? I aced that course, I really did. Got top marks. But all I''ve got to show for it is a mountain of debt and a whole lot of nothing." He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the crumpled rejection letter a painful reminder of his failure. "Overseas¡ that job¡ it would have been perfect. It was even an online position, but I still can''t go there. The travel costs, the visa¡ it''s all just too much right now. Guess it''s back to the construction sites, the back-breaking work, the pittance of a paycheck. Another dead-end job. Another step further into the hole."
He sighed, the sound lost in the city''s clamor. Then, he looked up. Across the street, standing on the sidewalk near a brightly colored mural, was Sarah. Her blonde hair, usually pulled back in a neat ponytail, was loose today, catching the sunlight. A phone was pressed to her ear, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she spoke. For a moment, Tyler forgot his woes, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. The disappointment, the frustration, the crushing weight of his job hunt ¨C all of it faded into the background, replaced by a familiar flutter of nervous excitement.
The fleeting hope sparked by Sarah''s presence died as quickly as it ignited. A sleek, black car pulled up to the curb, and a young man, roughly Tyler''s age, stepped out. He was impeccably dressed, radiating an effortless confidence that Tyler found both irritating and intimidating. Sarah smiled, a bright, genuine smile that Tyler had only ever seen directed at him in fleeting moments, and climbed into the car. It pulled away, leaving Tyler standing alone on the sidewalk, the sting of rejection sharper than before.
"She''s one of those people," he muttered, bitterness lacing his voice. "The kind who just¡ has it all. Beautiful, successful, effortlessly charming. Someone like me? I stand no chance. I''ll probably end up alone, a bitter old man, cursing the day I was born. Hell, I''m practically evil for even thinking I could ever have a chance with someone like her."
The self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by a hearty clap on his back. He turned to see Mark, his friend, emerging from the convenience store nearby, a large soda in hand. "Yo, Tyler," Mark grinned, his voice booming through the city''s noise. "Long time no see. What''s up?" The hug that followed was surprisingly strong, a welcome distraction from the swirling vortex of Tyler''s self-doubt.
Mike was a whirlwind of energy, even standing still. He was Tyler''s roommate, a fact Tyler sometimes regretted, and sometimes didn''t. Mike was annoying, relentlessly optimistic to a sometimes maddening degree, and possessed a confidence that bordered on arrogance. He talked incessantly, often about things that barely registered on Tyler''s radar, but he was also a good friend, offering a much-needed distraction from Tyler''s often bleak outlook. And while Mike worked at the convenience store ¨C a job that paid decently enough, not the poverty wages Tyler feared ¨C his easy confidence was something Tyler envied. Looking at Mike now, with his easy grin and that oversized soda in hand, Tyler felt a pang of something akin to resentment mixed with a grudging admiration. "What''s up?" Mike asked again, his voice still loud and cheerful, oblivious to the turmoil raging within Tyler.
Tyler sighed, the sound heavy with defeat. "Didn''t get the job," he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his tired face. Mike''s grin faltered, replaced by a look of genuine sympathy. "Aw, man, that sucks," he said, clapping Tyler on the shoulder again. "But hey, don''t sweat it. You''ll nail it next time, I know you will. I believe in you, dude."
Tyler felt a flicker of annoyance. "You''ve been saying that for two months, Mike," he said, his voice flat. "And nothing''s changed." He paused, then added, "Hey, is there any chance of a position opening up at the convenience store? Maybe I could work with you."
Mike shrugged, his usual boundless optimism momentarily dimmed. "I don''t know, man. Things have been pretty steady lately. I''ll ask the manager, but don''t get your hopes up."
Tyler sighed again, a longer, more exasperated sigh this time. "I''m just going home," he said, his voice weary. "Gonna flop on the couch and try to forget about this whole mess for a while."
The apartment hit him like a wave of chaos the moment he stepped inside. Clothes were strewn across the floor, dirty dishes piled high in the sink, and empty takeout containers littered the coffee table. It was a familiar scene, a testament to Mike''s¡ less-than-stellar housekeeping habits. Tyler couldn''t even remember the last time the place had been properly cleaned; it felt like a lifetime ago. A wave of frustration washed over him, but he pushed it aside. He wasn''t in the mood for another argument with Mike, so he started cleaning. He gathered the scattered clothes, scrubbed the dishes, and tossed the trash. It took him nearly two hours, but eventually, the apartment was at least somewhat presentable.
Finally, he collapsed onto the couch, the worn cushions sinking under his weight. The exhaustion was both physical and mental. He groaned, rubbing his temples. "What am I going to eat?" he muttered to himself. The question hung in the air, unanswered for a while. He eventually decided on something simple ¨C ramen noodles ¨C and set about preparing it.
By the time he finished eating, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the room. Just as he was considering a shower, the door opened and Mike walked in, laden with grocery bags. "Hey, man," Mike said, his voice a little quieter than usual, "Sorry about the mess. I''ve been swamped at work."
"Swamped at work," Tyler thought, a cynical smile playing on his lips. "That''s what he always says." He outwardly remained calm, however, helping Mike unpack the groceries and put them away. The shared task, the quiet efficiency of it, eased some of the tension that had built up throughout the day.
After a quick shower, Tyler found Mike sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. "So," Mike began, looking up with a mischievous grin, "have you told Sarah you like her yet?"
Tyler''s face flushed. The question, so casual, so lighthearted, felt like a punch to the gut. Embarrassment warred with annoyance. "No," he mumbled, avoiding Mike''s gaze. "And even if I did, what''s the point? She''s¡ she''s out of my league." He repeated the phrase, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "She''s out of my league." The repetition felt like a mantra, a desperate attempt to convince himself of a truth he didn''t want to accept.
Mike, ever the optimist, clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, believe in yourself, man! And besides," he added with a wink, "girls love bold guys. I should know."Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "How would you know? I''ve never seen you with a girlfriend."
Mike grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe you don''t know me as well as you think you do. Maybe I''m secretly living the life of a romance novel protagonist. Maybe I have a hidden harem."
Tyler chuckled, the sound genuine and surprisingly relieving. The tension, the weight of the day, seemed to lighten a little. The absurdity of Mike''s statement, the sheer ridiculousness of it, broke through the wall of self-doubt he''d built around himself.
Mike, seemingly sensing the shift in Tyler''s mood, reached up and removed a small necklace he always wore ¨C a delicate gold chain with a tiny, intricately carved golden flower pendant. He held it up, turning it between his fingers. "Here," he said, tossing the necklace to Tyler. "The Necklace of Luck. Guaranteed to win you Sarah''s heart."
Tyler caught the necklace, a skeptical expression on his face. "This is stupid," he said, tossing it back. "I don''t believe in luck."
Mike caught it, a smirk playing on his lips. "Why not? It worked for my great-grandfather, his four wives, my grandfather, his two wives, and even my dad, with his... two." He threw it back again.
Tyler caught it, considering it for a moment. "Because I''ve never had any. Luck, I mean." He tossed it back to Mike.
"Wear it already," Mike said, snatching the necklace from the air and attempting to place it around Tyler''s neck. In their clumsy exchange, they both tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs and laughter. When the dust settled, Tyler found the necklace already secured around his neck.
"If you take it off," Mike said, a playful glint in his eyes, "I''m eating all the ramen."
"Okay, okay," Tyler conceded. The tension of the earlier conversation had completely dissipated, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie.
The next morning, Mike woke with a whoop, grabbing his phone and practically leaping out of bed. "WHOO! I got the job! I got the job!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the apartment.
Tyler, still groggy from sleep, sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What job?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Mike, practically vibrating with excitement, waved his phone in the air. "That one I applied for! The one that pays way more than the convenience store! They called this morning ¨C they accepted me! I''m starting next week!" He was already halfway out the door, grabbing his keys and backpack. "Gotta go! So much to do!"
Tyler watched him go, a genuine smile spreading across his face. A pang of envy, a familiar twinge of self-doubt, flickered through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by happiness for his friend. Mike deserved this; he''d worked hard, and his unwavering optimism, even when things were tough, was finally paying off. He was genuinely happy for Mike, even if a small part of him wished he could experience that kind of success himself. He went back to sleep.
Tyler woke, the sunlight streaming through the window. He showered, feeling the day''s potential wash over him, a feeling strangely different from the previous days'' despair. Back in his room, he spotted the golden necklace lying on his bed. He picked it up, turning the tiny flower pendant between his fingers. Should he wear it? A part of him scoffed at the idea ¨C the whole thing felt ridiculous. But another part, a small, hopeful part, whispered that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn''t hurt. He slipped it on, the cool metal a comforting weight against his skin.
He decided on a walk, a route that would take him past the coffee shop Sarah frequented. As he walked, the familiar nervousness returned, a flutter in his stomach. He spotted the coffee shop, its windows displaying the tempting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
There she was, sitting at her usual table by the window, her blonde hair catching the sunlight. The years had been kind to her; she was even more beautiful than he remembered. The memory of high school flooded back ¨C Sarah, the most popular girl, seemingly untouchable, a figure from a different life. He approached her table, his heart pounding a rhythm against his ribs. "Sarah?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.
"Hi, Sarah," Tyler said, offering a tentative smile.
Sarah looked up, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?"
"Tyler," he replied, his smile faltering slightly. "Tyler Evans."
She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "I... I don''t think I remember you," she said, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.
"We went to high school together," Tyler offered, trying to keep his voice light.
A nervous laugh escaped Sarah''s lips. "Oh," she said, the word sounding a little strained. She gestured to the chair opposite her. "Please, sit."
He sat down, noticing the subtle disappointment in her expression. He tried to ignore it, focusing on keeping the conversation flowing. The initial excitement he''d felt had dimmed considerably. He cleared his throat. "So... uh... what are you up to these days?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Still into photography?" he added, remembering a project she''d done in their art class.
"Actually, no," Sarah said, a little hesitantly. "I''m not really into photography anymore. I''m¡ I''m in marketing now." The conversation felt stilted, awkward. Tyler struggled to find common ground, to bridge the gap between the girl he remembered from high school and the woman sitting across from him. He tried to steer the conversation towards other shared memories, but they seemed to evaporate, leaving a void filled with uncomfortable silences.
Just as he was desperately searching for another topic, a familiar figure appeared at the edge of the table. It was the man from the black car, the impeccably dressed young man who had whisked Sarah away on that previous afternoon. "Babe, it''s time to go," he said, his voice smooth and confident.
Sarah looked at Tyler, a flicker of something ¨C perhaps guilt, perhaps pity ¨C in her eyes. "Hey, it was¡ nice to meet you, Tyler," she said, her tone polite but distant. She stood up, her boyfriend already holding her chair. She offered a quick wave before turning and walking away with him, leaving Tyler alone at the table.
A wave of disappointment washed over him, cold and crushing. Embarrassment burned in his cheeks. He hadn''t even considered the possibility that she might have a boyfriend ¨C a boyfriend who clearly had a much more impressive life than his own. The image of Sarah in the car, the fleeting hope he''d felt that morning, now felt like a cruel joke. His dreams, so fragile, so easily shattered. Anger, sharp and bitter, began to simmer beneath the surface of his disappointment. He hadn''t even thought to consider that possibility. He felt foolish, naive , and utterly defeated.
Back in his apartment, Tyler¡¯s carefully constructed composure crumbled. Frustration, raw and potent, consumed him. He paced his room, the small space feeling claustrophobic, mirroring the suffocating weight of his disappointment. His life, he thought, was a string of failures. He shouldn''t have gone to see Sarah; that encounter had only served to highlight the chasm between their lives. And Mike, his friend, his roommate, was about to move on, leaving Tyler alone in this cramped, cheap apartment. He¡¯d come to this city, escaping his mother and his wealthier brothers, believing he could build a life for himself, a life of independence and success. Instead, he¡¯d found only disappointment. He was the poor excuse for a son, the one his mother probably wished she¡¯d never had. The thought, bitter and self-deprecating, settled in his mind. He was a burden, a failure, and the world would be better off without him. The idea of death, of simply ceasing to exist, felt less like a terrifying prospect and more like a tempting escape from the crushing weight of his inadequacies. He was a disappointment, and if he died, it would be less trouble for everyone.
With a surge of anger, Tyler ripped the necklace from his neck, the gold chain snapping against his skin. He slammed it onto the floor, the tiny golden flower pendant splitting in two with a sharp crack. He sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands, the frustration a physical ache in his chest. Then, he saw it ¨C a faint light emanating from the broken pendant, a soft, ethereal glow. He blinked, thinking he was hallucinating, but the light persisted, growing brighter, more intense. Confusion warred with a rising sense of unease. What was happening? This was insane. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through his despair. He needed to get out of there, to escape this strange, unsettling light.
But as he tried to move, to stand, the light intensified, expanding, engulfing him in a blinding wave of energy. The light intensified, a searing white that filled his vision. Then, nothingness. One moment he was in his apartment, the next he was... running. His legs were pumping, his body propelled forward by the residual momentum of his desperate flight. Before he could even register his surroundings, his face collided with something solid and unyielding. A tree. The impact knocked the air from his lungs; he tumbled to the ground, groaning. He sat up, blinking rapidly, his head throbbing. Gone was his cramped apartment; in its place was a dense forest, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something acrid and unpleasant. Above, a brilliant blue sky stretched endlessly. There were no buildings, no signs of civilization, just trees, stretching as far as the eye could see. He was utterly, completely lost. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at the edges of his confusion. Where was he? How did he get here?
Chapter 2: A Cowards Escape
The throbbing in his head was a dull ache, a minor inconvenience rather than a searing pain. He looked around, his gaze sweeping across the endless expanse of trees. The forest was dense, the canopy overhead blocking out much of the sunlight, creating a dim, almost oppressive atmosphere. He could hear the chirping of birds, a sound that felt oddly out of place in this unsettling environment. The air hung heavy and humid, noticeably warmer than it had been in his apartment.
A trickle of blood rolled down his forehead, a thin crimson line tracing a path through his eyebrow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, looking at the blood on his fingers with a detached curiosity. His face remained etched with confusion, his brow furrowed in thought. "How the hell did I get here?" he muttered, the words hanging in the air, unanswered.
He took a tentative step forward, then another, feeling the soft give of the grass beneath his feet. The sound was surprisingly loud, each step a distinct shhh against the quiet hum of the forest. He was still disoriented, still grappling with the absurdity of his situation, but the immediate panic had subsided, replaced by a cautious curiosity. The forest, despite its strangeness, held a certain allure, a silent invitation to explore. The question of how he''d arrived remained unanswered, but the pressing need to understand his surroundings began to outweigh the lingering fear.
The impulse to call out for help, to shout for someone, anyone, was almost overwhelming but he stopped himself. What if calling out was a mistake? What if it attracted something dangerous? The thought sent a fresh wave of unease through him. Maybe it was better to remain unseen, to observe before acting.
This was his worst nightmare, he realized. He''d always been terrible with directions, prone to getting lost even in familiar places. He remembered one time, as a child, getting separated from his family at a crowded amusement park. The panic, the overwhelming sense of isolation, had been terrifying. Now, he was truly lost, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by an alien landscape. The nervousness gnawed at him, a persistent, unsettling feeling that burrowed deep into his gut.
Maybe this wasn''t real, he thought. Maybe it was all a dream, a bizarre, vivid nightmare. He hadn''t woken up yet. The thought offered a sliver of comfort, a potential escape from the terrifying reality of his situation. He slapped himself hard across the face, the sting a sharp contrast to the numb feeling of disbelief. The pain was real. This wasn''t a dream. He was truly, terrifyingly lost.
He stood for a long moment, contemplating his options. Trees. Endless trees in every direction. North, south, east, west ¨C it all looked the same. He wasn''t even sure he was still in the same city. There were no forests this dense anywhere near his apartment; the closest thing was a small, manicured park several blocks away. The thought sent a fresh wave of unease through him. He was truly lost, utterly and completely disoriented.
He turned south, a seemingly arbitrary choice, but one born from a desperate hope. If he walked south, surely he would eventually stumble upon some sign of civilization ¨C a road, a house, a person. Anything that could help him. He took a deep breath, preparing to start walking, when a dark bluish glow shimmered into existence before him. The system. It pulsed gently, its presence a stark reminder of his strange, new reality. His immediate concern for survival was momentarily overshadowed by the mystery of this game-like interface and the questions it raised about his current situation. Where was he? And what was this place?
A dark bluish glow shimmered into existence before him , a translucent panel floating in the air. He stared, his mouth slightly agape, as he read the information displayed.
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 0
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 29/30 MP: 0/25
STR: 6 AGI: 5 DEF: 6
STATUS: Minor Bruising (from tree)
SKILLS: Weapon Craft
INVENTORY: (Click bottom-right corner to access)
```
A wave of confusion washed over him. The layout, the stats¡ it was strangely familiar. The terms "Strength," "Agility," and "Defense," the numerical values assigned to them, triggered a vague memory of video games, though he''d never been much of a gamer. The presentation felt oddly¡ structured. This wasn''t just some random, inexplicable transportation; this was something else entirely. But what? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He was somewhere else, somewhere strange, and this¡ this interface¡ it was a mystery he desperately needed to solve. The immediate priority was survival, but the enigma of the status display was a close second. He was in a strange place, and he had no idea what to expect.
"This is insane," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Completely insane. I''m losing it, aren''t I? I''m just¡ cracking up." He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture clumsy and frantic. "It''s all in my head, isn''t it? This whole thing? I''m just stumbling around my room, hallucinating. This forest, these trees¡ it''s all a figment of my imagination, a grotesque joke my brain''s playing on me. I''m a failure, a piece of trash, and now I''m paying the price. This is my breakdown, my descent into madness." He laughed, a hollow, humorless sound. "Serves me right."
He shifted his weight, taking a step to the side. The system display remained fixed in his vision, moving with him, unwavering. He moved to the left, then to the right. The display followed, its ethereal glow a constant presence. "See? I told you," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I''m crazy. This isn''t real. It''s one of those things, right? The brain just¡ makes things up when it''s breaking down. A hallucination. A delusion. A really, really vivid delusion." He paused, staring at the persistent display. "But¡ but it''s so real, isn''t it? Too real. Too detailed. Too¡ persistent. It''s not just a hallucination, is it? Or is it?" He squeezed his eyes shut, the fear a cold knot in his stomach. "What is this place? What is happening to me?"
"Well," he muttered, a flicker of defiance igniting in his eyes, "if I am in my room, hallucinating this whole thing¡ then there''s no harm in being a little foolish, is there?" He paused, considering the implications. His brain wasn''t exactly known for conjuring up elaborate fantasies; he wasn''t the type to get lost in daydreams or video games. This¡ this was beyond anything he could have imagined.
He stared at the system display again, his chin resting on his hand as he focused intently on the words. He read aloud, his voice barely above a whisper, "¡INVENTORY: (Click bottom-right corner to access)." He hesitated for a moment, then, with a shrug, he focused his attention on the bottom-right corner of the display. He mentally clicked, expecting nothing.
And then, he saw it. Four inventory slots appeared, neatly arranged in a grid. Empty inventory slots. He frowned, tilting his head. "Four? Why only four?" he murmured, his voice laced with confusion.
Before he could ponder the limited inventory space, a sound cut through the air. It was a rustling, a low, almost imperceptible sound, but it was definitely there, breaking the unnerving silence of the forest. His head snapped up, his eyes darting around, searching for the source of the noise. The feeling of unease returned, amplified by the mystery of the inventory and the sudden sound. He wasn''t alone.
The rustling sound intensified, evolving into something far more unsettling. It was a repulsive, almost slimy sound, like the squelching of mucus or the writhing of some unseen, gelatinous creature. Then, it came into view.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
A slime. A pulsating mass of what looked like water and mucus, almost translucent, yet undeniably alive. It was roughly the size of two footballs combined¡ªa bizarre, unsettling shape that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Tyler''s brain struggled to process the image. It wasn''t the colour that was shocking; it was the wrongness of it. The way it moved, a sickening, slow-motion fluidity that seemed to ignore the constraints of solid matter. The unsettling combination of organic and inorganic, the way it pulsed and shifted, sent a jolt of pure terror through him. He started to shake, his body wracked with a mixture of fear and disbelief. He couldn''t even comprehend what he was looking at. It was¡ alive? Water and mucus¡ alive?
And then, the system display updated, a new line appearing beside the image of the creature: `SLIME LEVEL 3`. The simple words, the numerical designation, somehow made the creature even more terrifying. It wasn''t just some bizarre natural phenomenon; it was¡ a creature, a being, with a defined level, a quantifiable existence within this strange, new reality. The implications were staggering, overwhelming. He was not only lost in a strange world, but he was also confronted with something utterly inexplicable, something that defied his understanding of the natural world. The realization sent another wave of fear through him, colder and more profound than before.
Tyler remained frozen, his eyes fixated on the slime, his body trembling. Then, almost imperceptibly, the amorphous mass shifted. A small, rounded protrusion formed at the top, a rudimentary head, lacking eyes or any discernible features. Yet, in that instant, Tyler knew. It had noticed him.
A new sound emanated from the creature, a strange, almost musical kyuu, a sound that somehow managed to be both unsettling and oddly melodic. And then, it moved. The slime, which had been slowly oozing to the side, began to head towards him, its movement accelerating. The repulsive squelching sound intensified, growing louder as the creature closed the distance.
"Yeah, no shit," Tyler muttered, his voice tight with fear. "I''m not sticking around for that." He turned and ran, his legs pumping, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He glanced back over his shoulder, his heart pounding in his chest. The slime was still moving towards him, but the distance between them seemed to be growing. He was getting away. He was escaping. For now. The thought offered a small measure of comfort, a fragile hope in the face of overwhelming terror. But the image of the creature, its unsettling form and unnerving sound, remained burned into his mind, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in this strange, new world.
He ran, his lungs burning, his legs screaming in protest, but adrenaline pushed him onward. Just as he thought he might collapse, the system window, which had vanished as soon as he''d started running, reappeared, its ethereal glow momentarily distracting him. A message flashed across the screen: `ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED`.
Beneath the achievement notification, another message appeared, mocking and blunt: `Coward''s Escape`.
Tyler gritted his teeth, ignoring the sting of the insult. His eyes scanned the rest of the updated status display:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 0
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 29/30 MP: 0/25
STR: 6 AGI: 7 DEF: 6
STATUS: Minor Bruising (from tree)
SKILLS: Weapon Craft
INVENTORY: (Click bottom-right corner to access)
```
His agility had increased by two points. A small victory in the face of overwhelming terror. The system, with its mocking achievement and stat update, was a constant, unsettling reminder of this bizarre new reality. He was not only lost and hunted, but he was also, somehow, playing a game. The thought sent a fresh wave of unease through him, but the adrenaline-fueled flight continued, the need to escape overriding all other thoughts. He had to get away from that slime. He had to survive.
He stopped running, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat. He coughed, a harsh, rattling sound, and sank to his knees, his hands resting heavily on his thighs for support. He remained crouched for a moment, catching his breath, the exertion leaving him weak and trembling. Then, slowly, he straightened, sighing, and looked back.
He had never run that far before in his life. The thought, fleeting and almost inconsequential, crossed his mind:
"Maybe it''s the system". He shrugged it off, dismissing it as a fanciful notion. But the uneasy feeling remained. If there was one slime, there were likely more. Many more. The image of the creature, its repulsive form and unnerving sound, haunted him. This wasn''t just some random encounter; it was a serious threat. And a strange, unsettling sense of determination, a resolve he hadn''t felt in years, began to bubble up inside him. This was a fight for survival, a terrifying struggle against the unknown, and he had to win. The thought, though terrifying, also filled him with a strange, unexpected sense of purpose.
He stumbled, his legs unsteady, and a wave of thirst washed over him, a burning dryness in his throat. Then, a chilling realization struck him: he had no food, no water. If night fell, the temperature would plummet, and the creatures¡ªcreatures like the slime¡ªwould likely become more active, more aggressive. He was alone, injured, lost, thirsty, and utterly unprepared. Panic threatened to overwhelm him again, but he fought it down, focusing on the immediate need for survival. He had to find something, anything, to defend himself.
His eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for anything that could serve as a weapon. He spotted a sturdy tree nearby, its branches thick and strong. He approached it, his movements cautious, and with a grunt of exertion, he ripped off a thick branch, snapping it from the trunk with a satisfying crack. He then stripped away some of the smaller branches, shaping it into a crude but serviceable club.
As he held the makeshift weapon, a small box of text appeared beside it, floating in the air: `Attack: 2`. A simple numerical value, yet it sent a jolt through him. It wasn''t just a stick; it was a weapon, a tool with a quantifiable level of effectiveness. The realization, though unsettling, also brought a flicker of hope. He wasn''t completely helpless. He had a weapon, and he had the system, a mysterious guide to this strange new world. He felt a surge of adrenaline, a mixture of fear and determination.
He gripped the makeshift club, the rough wood a comfort in his hand. Staying here, fighting his way out of this forest, seemed like the only option. But what then? He would return to his cramped apartment, to the crushing weight of his failures. He''d search for a new job, struggle to make ends meet, and his friend, relieved to be free of the burden of his presence, would likely move out, leaving him alone in that tiny, suffocating space. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, a stark reminder of the life he''d left behind. Was this new reality, however terrifying, truly worse than that?
As he stood there, lost in thought, a terrifying sound ripped through the air, a low, guttural roar that seemed to shake the very ground beneath his feet. He looked up, his eyes widening in fear, as a colossal shadow crossed the sky. High above, something immense was rising, a creature of immense size and power, its form vaguely reptilian, dragon-like. It moved with terrifying grace, its silhouette a stark contrast against the bright sky, before disappearing into the distance, leaving only the lingering echo of its roar and a profound sense of dread. The encounter with the slime had been terrifying, but this¡ this was something else entirely. This was a threat on a scale he couldn''t even begin to comprehend. His fight for survival had just become exponentially more difficult.
"Fuck," Tyler breathed, the word a raw expression of disbelief and terror. He dropped the makeshift club, the rough wood clattering against the forest floor, as the enormity of his situation crashed down on him. He wasn''t hallucinating. He wasn''t in his apartment. He wasn''t losing his mind. He was in another world, a world teeming with dangers he could barely comprehend. He''d thought the slime was bad, a terrifying encounter, but that¡ that thing in the sky¡ that had looked like a dragon. The slimes might have been unsettling, but this was a whole different level of threat. This was real, and he was in mortal danger.
He picked up the club again, the rough wood suddenly feeling inadequate, pathetic in the face of such overwhelming power. As he straightened, preparing to face whatever might come next, he saw it. A slime, smaller than the one he''d encountered before, was heading straight towards him, oozing through the undergrowth with its characteristic sickening fluidity. The kyuu sound, that unnerving, almost musical squelch, was closer now, more menacing. His escape had been short-lived. The fight for survival had begun again.
Chapter 3: First Kill
The smaller slime, propelled by some unseen force, launched itself at Tyler with surprising speed and agility. Panic seized him; he reacted instinctively, leaping sideways just as the gelatinous mass slammed into a nearby tree trunk with a loud thwack. The impact shook the tree, causing some leaves to fall, and the sound reverberated through the forest. He landed hard, the breath knocked from his lungs, but he wasn''t seriously injured. He lay there for a moment, stunned, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.
He pushed himself to his feet, his muscles aching. The system display, ever-present, updated itself beside the now-stationary slime, which was slowly oozing down the tree trunk: `Slime Level 1`. The numerical designation, stark and simple, offered a chilling perspective on the encounter. The smaller slime, despite its relatively modest size, was still a threat, a quantifiable danger in this strange new world. He had narrowly escaped death, but the encounter served as a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He needed a better plan, a more effective strategy for survival.
As Tyler stared at the slime, still clinging to the tree trunk, it moved again. This time, instead of a direct assault, it seemed to bounce off the tree, launching itself towards him in a surprising, almost acrobatic maneuver. He reacted instantly, his instincts honed by the near-miss. Gripping his makeshift club firmly, he swung it with all his might, mimicking the motion of a baseball bat. The club connected with the slime with a satisfying thwack, and a high-pitched kyuu sound¡ªa clear indication of pain¡ªechoed through the air.
The force of the blow sent the slime hurtling backward, slamming it against the tree trunk once more. This time, however, the slime didn''t bounce back. It slumped to the ground, its pulsating movements ceasing, its gelatinous form still and inert. Tyler stood there, his breath ragged, his muscles burning, staring at the defeated creature. He had done it. He had killed it. A wave of relief washed over him, quickly followed by a chilling realization: this was just the beginning.
The slime didn''t simply lie there; it began to shimmer, its gelatinous form dissolving into sparkling blue dust that danced in the air, carried away by a gentle breeze. Almost instantly, the system display appeared, its familiar bluish glow a stark contrast to the fading dust: `ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: First Kill`.
Below the achievement notification, his stats were updated:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 0
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 29/30 MP: 0/25
STR: 7 AGI: 7 DEF: 6
STATUS: Minor Bruising (from tree)
SKILLS: Weapon Craft
```
His Strength stat had increased by one point. Tyler stared at the updated display, a wave of surprise washing over him. "So that''s how it works," he thought, "my stats grow from achievements. Killing that slime¡ it actually leveled me up, in a way." He glanced at his level, still stubbornly fixed at zero. "Level zero?" he mused, a frown creasing his brow. "That''s¡ odd. Shouldn''t I be at least level one after my first kill?"
The system, with its cryptic updates and unexplained mechanics, remained as much a mystery as the world around him. He had survived another encounter, but the questions surrounding this strange new reality only multiplied.
Just as Tyler pondered the mystery of his level zero status, a new message appeared on the system display, its ethereal glow pulsing gently:
```
You have received the Artifact''s Blessing!
New Skill Acquired: Primal Subjugation (Use: 1)
Due to not receiving the Goddess''s Blessing, 25% of XP will be removed. Current Level: 0
```
Tyler stared at the screen, his brow furrowed in confusion. A goddess, the Artifact''s Blessing¡ a new skill¡ Primal Subjugation. The name sounded powerful, primal, hinting at an ability to control or tame creatures. The "(Use: 1)" notation, however, was concerning. It was a one-time use skill. He would only get one chance to use it. He needed to choose wisely.
Then, the second part of the message registered, though the impact was lessened. A quarter of his XP removed. He had gained a powerful skill, but at a cost. His progress, however small, had been reduced. He was still at level zero, but the setback wasn''t as devastating as a complete XP wipe. The weight of this new reality still pressed down on him, but the blow was softened. He had a powerful tool, and while the path ahead remained fraught with danger and uncertainty, the journey wasn''t quite as bleak. He had to choose his next target carefully. His survival depended on it.
Tyler looked down at the makeshift club, the system display beside it still showing `Attack: 2`. He hefted it in his hand, the rough wood feeling strangely reassuring. He was still at level zero, his XP reduced, but he had a new skill and a weapon. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, and stepped deeper into the forest.
He moved cautiously, his senses heightened, his eyes scanning the undergrowth, the trees, the shadows. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. He was acutely aware of his vulnerability, of the dangers that lurked unseen in this strange new world. He walked slowly, deliberately, trying to avoid making any unnecessary noise, any movement that might attract unwanted attention. His survival depended on his vigilance, his caution, his ability to anticipate and react to the threats that surrounded him. The forest, once a place of simple beauty, was now a battleground, and he was a lone warrior, armed with nothing but a stick and his wits.
The sun beat down relentlessly, the heat oppressive even in the dappled shade of the trees. Tyler, despite his earlier adrenaline rush, felt the weight of exhaustion settling over him. His muscles ached, his throat was parched, and a persistent weariness tugged at his limbs. Yet, his breathing remained steady, his senses sharp, a testament to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He looked around, the dense forest stretching out in all directions, a seemingly endless expanse of green. The thought of escaping this place, of finding civilization, felt increasingly daunting. He was likely still very far from safety.
He glanced down at his makeshift club, the system display flickering into existence beside it. He considered placing it in his inventory, but a question lingered: how? As he stared at the club, a faint bluish glow emanated from it, and in an instant, it vanished from his grasp. He looked down at his empty hand, then at his inventory. One of the slots now displayed a small icon of a stick. He blinked, surprised. Then, a new text box appeared on the system display:
```
Three more sticks are needed to craft a Wooden Sword.
```
A wave of surprise washed over him. Crafting? A wooden sword? The implications were significant. It meant that he could improve his weapons, make them stronger, more effective. But it also meant that he needed to find four more suitable branches. The task seemed daunting, but the possibility of a better weapon, a more reliable means of defense, fueled his determination.
Tyler looked up at the tree he was resting beneath, its branches thick and strong. He carefully selected four branches, similar in size and sturdiness to the club he''d already used. Before placing them in his inventory, he methodically snapped off smaller branches from each, shaping them roughly into the form of his previous club. This way, he reasoned, they would be more easily usable as weapons if needed.
One by one, he placed the prepared branches into his inventory slots. As soon as the final branch disappeared into the inventory, a system window popped up, its familiar blue glow illuminating the shaded area:
```
Craft Item? (Y/N)
```
Without hesitation, Tyler mentally selected ''Y''. The window disappeared, replaced by another:
```
Crafting Wooden Sword...
```
A faint whirring sound, almost imperceptible, filled the air as the crafting process began. Tyler watched, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension swirling within him. This was his first crafting attempt in this strange new world, a crucial step in his ongoing struggle for survival.
The system message appeared: `Item Craft Complete`. A wooden sword materialized in the air above him, shimmering briefly before falling gently into his outstretched hand. It resembled a katana in its overall shape, though clearly crafted from wood, not steel. He examined it closely, surprised by its surprisingly high quality. The craftsmanship was surprisingly precise, the wood smoothly finished, the hilt comfortable in his grip. It was heavier than he expected, a solid weight that felt reassuringly substantial.
He tapped the blade lightly against his palm, the impact surprisingly firm. He could easily imagine the pain a harder blow would inflict. He examined the edge, noting that while blunt, it was still undeniably sharp, capable of inflicting serious damage. He looked again at the sword, and the system display appeared beside it: `Attack: 17`. A significant upgrade from his previous makeshift club. A wave of relief washed over him, quickly followed by a surge of cautious optimism. He had a better weapon now, a tool that would significantly improve his chances of survival.
Tyler thought of his inventory, and the system display obligingly showed his four slots. He stared at it, his eyes widening in surprise. The four slots, previously occupied by the wooden branches, were now empty. "No way¡" he muttered, a dawning realization spreading through him. "Those sticks¡ they''re gone. They were used to make this¡" He hefted the wooden sword, feeling its weight again. It suddenly made sense. The surprising quality, the weight, the sharpness of the blade¡ it wasn''t just magically conjured; the system had combined the materials he''d provided to craft a superior weapon. He still didn''t fully understand how the system worked, but he was starting to grasp its basic mechanics.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The realization, however, was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing concern. He was tired, hungry, and thirsty. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a gnawing emptiness in his stomach. "Food and water," he murmured, the words a stark reminder of his immediate needs. He started walking, his gaze scanning the forest floor, his senses alert. Then, he saw it. A flash of black fur, a quick movement in the undergrowth. A rabbit. A black rabbit, its eyes gleaming in the dappled sunlight, darted out from behind a bush before disappearing back into the dense foliage. A flicker of hope ignited within him. Food. He might just have found his next meal.
Tyler followed the Rabbit into the bushes, his new wooden sword held ready. He''d barely taken a few steps when a high-pitched shriek pierced the air, a sound of distress that sent a shiver down his spine. It was a cry for help, but it came from the rabbit. Tyler paused, confused. He''d never interacted much with rabbits, but he was fairly certain they didn''t shriek. At least, he hoped not.
Pushing aside the undergrowth, he burst into a small clearing. His breath hitched in his throat. A reddish-brown dog, its fur matted and stained with blood, was already devouring the rabbit. The sight filled Tyler with a mixture of revulsion and a sudden, chilling understanding. This wasn''t just a normal forest; it was a world teeming with predators, a world where even seemingly harmless creatures could become prey. And he, armed with only a wooden sword, was squarely in the middle of it all. He had to decide what to do next, and quick.
The dog, its fur the color of dried blood, continued its gruesome meal. The system display, ever-present, identified the creature: `Crimson Wolf, Level 15`. Below that, the remains of the rabbit were identified: `Shadowclaw, Level 6`. The stark contrast in levels¡ªa fifteen to a six¡ªexplained the swift and brutal end of the rabbit.
Tyler felt a tremor run through him, a wave of cold fear washing over him. He had faced slimes, but this¡ this was different. The raw, brutal violence of the scene was visceral, unsettling. The Crimson Wolf, its jaws clamped around Shadowclaw''s neck, was tearing into the rabbit''s flesh with savage efficiency. He could see the rabbit''s skin being ripped apart, its teeth bared in a silent scream. The air was thick with the coppery tang of blood, the sounds of tearing flesh a sickening symphony of death. He was no longer just facing individual creatures; he was witnessing the brutal reality of this world''s food chain, and he was a very small, very vulnerable part of it. He had to get out of there.
The Crimson Wolf, mid-meal, paused, its head lifting slightly. Its bloodshot eyes, narrowed in suspicion, locked onto Tyler. The realization hit Tyler with the force of a physical blow. He was seen. He turned and ran, his legs pumping, his heart hammering against his ribs. He glanced back over his shoulder. The wolf was pursuing him, its speed terrifying. It wasn''t just running; it was hunting. Tyler felt a surge of panic; the wolf''s speed was incredible, blurring the background as it closed the distance. He felt as if he were standing still, the wolf a relentless predator closing in for the kill.
The wolf launched itself, its jaws snapping shut just inches from Tyler''s head. He reacted instinctively, leaping to the side, rolling to avoid the attack. He scrambled to his feet, his breath ragged, his muscles screaming in protest. The wolf, undeterred, lunged again. This time, Tyler reacted more deliberately, raising his wooden sword to block the attack. The wolf''s jaws clamped down on the blade, its powerful teeth sinking into the wood with a sickening crunch. The sound of splintering wood was followed by the sickening feeling of the sword breaking apart in the wolf''s jaws. The weapon, his only defense, was gone. He was completely vulnerable.
Tyler watched, momentarily stunned, as the Crimson Wolf began to struggle, its powerful body convulsing slightly. It looked as if it were choking, its jaws working frantically. Then, with a heave, it vomited a chunk of splintered wood onto the forest floor.
Realization dawned on Tyler: he couldn''t outrun the wolf. He needed to find a way to escape, to put some distance between himself and the predator. His eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for an escape route. He spotted a sturdy tree nearby, its branches thick and strong. With a burst of adrenaline, he scrambled towards it, leaping to grab a low-hanging branch. He hauled himself up, his muscles burning, his grip tightening around the rough bark.
He kept climbing, his gaze fixed on the wolf below. The creature circled the tree, its eyes never leaving him, a low growl rumbling in its chest. Then, to Tyler''s dismay, the wolf settled down at the base of the tree, its body slumping against the trunk. It closed its eyes, and began to sleep.
"No¡" Tyler whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "It''s¡ it''s waiting for me. It''s just waiting for me to come down." A wave of despair washed over him. He was trapped, perched high in the tree, with a hungry, level fifteen predator sleeping patiently at its base. He was safe for now, but his escape was far from certain. He was exhausted, hungry, and utterly alone, with a long, terrifying night stretching ahead of him. He was trapped, and he didn''t know how he was going to get down.
From his perch, Tyler scanned the horizon. The forest stretched out before him, but it wasn''t endless. "There''s water," he breathed, a whisper of relief escaping his lips. "A river... and ponds. Not too far... maybe two kilometers or so." He felt a surge of cautious optimism. It wasn''t insurmountable. Two kilometers was a long way, especially given his exhaustion, but it was achievable. "I can do this," he muttered, a newfound determination hardening his resolve. "I just need to get down from here, and then..."
He paused, his gaze drifting back to the sleeping wolf. "That''s going to be tricky," he murmured, a frown creasing his brow. He needed a plan, a way to get past the wolf without becoming its next meal. He couldn''t outrun it. He needed to be clever. An idea began to form in his mind, a risky plan, but perhaps his only chance.
He started breaking branches from the tree, carefully selecting sturdy ones, similar in size and shape to the ones he''d used before. He snapped off smaller branches, shaping them roughly into the form of his previous club, preparing them for his inventory.
After breaking several branches and adding them to his inventory, Tyler realized he now had enough materials for two wooden swords. He selected one of the newly crafted swords and, using the other as a makeshift knife, carefully began to peel away the wood at the end of the blade, sharpening the point. He worked meticulously, his movements precise and deliberate, hoping to create a sharper, more effective weapon. "I hope this works," he muttered, his breath catching in his throat. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor, and the urgency of his situation pressed down on him. He needed shelter, but the dense forest offered little in the way of safe havens. He had to get down from the tree, and he had to do it quickly.
A plan formed in his mind, a risky maneuver, but perhaps his only option. He pointed the sharpened sword downwards, aiming for the wolf near the base of the tree. Taking a deep breath, he let go. The sword plunged into the earth¡ªwith a sickening thud¡ªdirectly into the wolf''s eye.
A howl of pain ripped through the air, a sound both terrifying and strangely satisfying. The Crimson Wolf thrashed wildly, its body convulsing as it struggled to free itself from the embedded sword. The wooden blade, surprisingly sturdy, remained lodged in the wolf''s eye socket for a moment before finally tearing free. "Yes!" Tyler exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. The wolf, howling in agony and disoriented, scrambled to its feet and fled into the undergrowth, disappearing into the gathering shadows.
Tyler remained perched in the tree, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn''t sure what to do next. The immediate danger was gone, but the forest was still dark and full of unknown threats. He was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, and the long journey to the river still lay ahead. He needed to get down, but a cautious hesitation held him back. The wolf was gone, but was it truly gone?
Tyler began his descent, moving slowly and carefully down the tree trunk. As he climbed, the familiar blue glow of the system display appeared before him. He blinked, momentarily distracted, then stared in disbelief at the message:
```
LEVEL UP! You have reached Level 2
```
His stats had been updated:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 2
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 33/33 MP: 29/29
STR: 11 AGI: 11 DEF: 10
STATUS: Healthy
SKILLS: Weapon Craft, Armor Craft
```
Everything had increased by four points! His strength was now eleven! He was stronger, faster, more resilient. The surprise was so overwhelming that he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, landing with a thud. The impact, however, was far less jarring than it would have been before his level-up. He pushed himself up, a grin spreading across his face. He had leveled up! And he had acquired a new skill: Armor Craft. The possibilities were suddenly vast. He could craft better weapons, and now, he could craft armor. His chances of survival had just increased dramatically. The journey to the river was still long and dangerous.
As Tyler pushed himself to his feet, he. noticed something amidst the undergrowth: a trail of blood, dark and glistening in the fading light. It was the Crimson Wolf''s trail, leading away from the tree. He followed it, his curiosity piqued, and soon discovered the wolf''s lifeless body, lying sprawled amongst the bushes. It was truly dead.
A thought struck him: the wolf. Level fifteen. He, a level zero, had killed it. "But¡ how?" he murmured, a frown creasing his brow. "Shouldn''t I be at least level four or five now? I killed a level fifteen beast!" He pondered the discrepancy, then remembered the Artifact''s Blessing, the removal of 25% of his XP. "That''s it," he realized, snapping his fingers. "My level was cut. That''s why I''m only level two. If not for that, I''d probably be much higher." The realization was unsettling.
As Tyler continued his trek, the system display suddenly shimmered into existence, announcing a new achievement:
```
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: The Impossible Kill
You have slain a creature significantly higher in level than yourself, demonstrating exceptional skill.
```
Below the achievement notification, his stats were updated:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 2
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 33/33 MP: 29/29
STR: 13 AGI: 11 DEF: 10
STATUS: Healthy
SKILLS: Weapon Craft, Armor Craft
```
His Strength had increased by another two points, bringing it to thirteen. A grin spread across Tyler''s face. He felt a surge of exhilaration. He had not only survived a deadly encounter but had also been rewarded for his bravery. He pulled another wooden sword from his inventory, feeling the reassuring weight of the weapon in his hand.
Chapter 4: Low Hp
The forest was dense, a cathedral of towering trees whose branches intertwined to form a thick, almost impenetrable canopy. Long shadows stretched across the forest floor, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. An unnatural quiet had settled over the area, a stark contrast to the frantic energy of the recent struggle. The only sound was the occasional rustle of leaves, a whisper of the wind weaving through the trees.
Tyler stood amidst the stillness, his gaze fixed on the Crimson Wolf. It lay where it had fallen. He reached for his sword, intending to sheathe it in his inventory, but paused. Something felt¡ off. He checked his inventory, expecting to see his usual four slots. Instead, he stared in disbelief at eight slots¡ªfour more than before! The sudden expansion of his inventory was completely unexpected. Then, he saw it: a text box next to the wolf''s body, displaying a single word: `EXTRACT`.
"Extract?" Tyler murmured, tilting his head. He looked at the wolf, then back at the text box. The unexpected expansion of his inventory added to his confusion. Hesitantly, he mentally selected the option.
Instantly, the wolf''s skin shimmered with a faint bluish light, then vanished as if it had never been there. The underlying flesh and bones were now exposed, glistening in the dim light. Then, the remaining flesh and bones began to shimmer, the same bluish light enveloping them before they too dissolved into sparkling blue dust, identical to the dust left behind by the slimes he''d encountered earlier. The only evidence of the creature was the faint coppery scent of blood lingering in the air.
Tyler stared at the empty space, a profound sense of unease washing over him. He had no idea what had just happened, or what the implications might be. The forest, already unsettling, now felt even more alien, more unpredictable. He was alone, in a world he didn''t understand, with more questions than answers. He needed to get to the river.
Amongst his inventory''s newly expanded slots, Tyler spotted a new icon: a husk-like image, vaguely resembling tanned leather. He realized with a jolt that it was the wolf''s skin¡ªthe skin that had been extracted. A thought sparked in his mind: armor. The system had given him the ability to craft armor, and here was the perfect material. But how? He knew how to craft weapons, but armor was a different beast entirely. He wasn''t sure where to even begin. Was it a similar process? Did he need a recipe? Did he need additional materials? The questions swirled in his mind, unanswered.
Then, he looked up. The sun had already set, plunging the forest into twilight. Darkness was rapidly descending, and a wave of panic washed over him. He was alone, vulnerable, and still a long way from the river. He couldn''t afford to waste any more time. He needed shelter, and he needed it now. With a surge of adrenaline, he grabbed his wooden sword, and started running towards the river, the image of the wolf''s skin and the mystery of armor crafting fading into the background as the urgency of his situation took over. He had to reach the river before nightfall completely consumed the forest.
Tyler paused, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Should he run? The forest was dark, full of unseen dangers. But the thirst clawing at his throat was a more immediate threat. "No choice," he muttered, his voice rough. "I have to get to that river."
He noticed something else, too. He felt¡ lighter, less exhausted than he should be. "Is it the system?" he wondered aloud, testing his muscles. His increased strength and agility were palpable. He felt faster, stronger, more capable. He gripped his sword, swinging it experimentally up and down, feeling the familiar weight, the reassuring balance. He was ready.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he started running, his legs pumping, his pace surprisingly swift. "This¡ this is the right way, right?" he muttered to himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The thought was cut short by a sudden, sharp impact against his shoulder. Something wet and hard slammed into him, sending a jolt of pain through his body.
The impact slammed into Tyler''s shoulder, sending him sprawling to the side. He landed hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. He scrambled to his feet, crouching low, his sword held defensively before him. Through the darkness, he saw it: a slime, bigger than the one he''d encountered before, though still roughly the same size as the first one he''d faced in this strange new world.
Before Tyler could react, the slime launched itself at him, its gelatinous form writhing. Instinctively, he swung his sword, a desperate, upward slash. The blade sliced through the slime with surprising ease, cleaving it cleanly in half. The two halves twitched for a moment before dissolving into the familiar blue dust. Tyler stared at the dust, then at his sword, a wave of surprise washing over him. He hadn''t expected the sword to be so effective against the slime. He''d assumed it would be more resistant, more difficult to kill. Perhaps the increased attack of the blade had made all the difference. He continued running, his wooden sword held firmly in his hand.
Then, the system display appeared, showing his current HP: 31/33. Two points of damage. He felt a renewed sense of urgency. His defense was low. He needed to reach the river, to find shelter, to rest and recover. But a new wave of doubt washed over him. "Am I even going the right way?" he wondered, his pace faltering slightly. The forest was dark, the path ahead uncertain. He was alone, injured, and desperately thirsty.
As Tyler continued to ran, a strange sound reached his ears¡ªa high-pitched shriek, almost like a pig oinking in distress, but somehow¡ wrong. It was followed by a heavy, rumbling sound, the distinct thud of large footsteps approaching rapidly from behind.
He glanced over his shoulder, his heart leaping into his throat. There, emerging from the darkness, was something truly bizarre. It resembled a warthog, but grotesquely exaggerated. Instead of the usual two horns, it sported six, curving menacingly from its head. And instead of two eyes, it had four, gleaming unnervingly in the dim light.
"Seriously?" Tyler groaned, his voice laced with disbelief . "A six-horned, four-eyed warthog? Of course. Why wouldn''t I run through a dark forest? What could possibly go wrong?" He cursed his own impulsive decision to flee, his earlier confidence replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated terror. The creature was charging, its multiple horns glinting menacingly in the moonlight, its four eyes fixed on him with unsettling intensity.
Tyler risked another glance over his shoulder. The system display identified the creature: `Hexhorn, Level 8`. Despite his increased agility, the Hexhorn was gaining on him. Its heavy, rumbling footsteps were growing louder, closer. He could feel the vibrations in the ground. There was no time to think, only to react.
Just as the Hexhorn was about to strike, Tyler launched himself to the side, narrowly avoiding its charge. The creature crashed into a large tree with a deafening thud, the impact shaking the ground. The Hexhorn shook its head, momentarily disoriented.
"Now''s my chance," Tyler muttered, his heart pounding in his chest. He gripped his sword, his muscles tense. "Distracted¡ it''s distracted!" He lunged forward, thrusting his sword with all his might, aiming for a vulnerable spot. But with a sickening crack, his wooden sword shattered against the Hexhorn''s tough hide. The broken pieces fell to the ground.
"Shit," Tyler breathed, his surprise giving way to terror. The Hexhorn, recovering from its momentary disorientation, turned its multiple eyes on him. With a furious roar, it charged. The impact slammed into Tyler''s chest, sending him sprawling through the undergrowth, the wind knocked from his lungs. He landed hard, pain exploding through his body. The world swam before his eyes, the sounds of the forest fading into a dull roar. He was injured, weaponless, and at the mercy of the enraged beast.
Tyler pushed himself up, his body screaming in protest. The system display appeared, stark and unforgiving: `HP: 21/33`. Eleven points of damage. The sight of the dwindling numbers intensified his fear. These weren''t just numbers; they were a countdown, a stark reminder of his mortality. Each point represented a step closer to death.
The Hexhorn, its multiple eyes gleaming with predatory intent, dragged its feet on the ground, the action like a coiled spring preparing to unleash its power. Then, it charged.
Tyler reacted instantly, straightening up and sprinting away. But the Hexhorn was faster, its massive bulk a blur of motion. A searing pain exploded across Tyler''s back as the creature slammed into him, sending him tumbling head over heels. He landed hard, a sharp crack echoing in his spine. He lay there, gasping for breath, his vision blurring, the chilling certainty of death settling over him. He was injured, weaponless, and hopelessly outmatched.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The system display flashed before his eyes: `HP: 14/33`. Nineteen points of damage. He tasted blood, a warm, metallic tang tickling his lips. He¡¯d been hit in the chest, then the back. This was it, he thought, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "So this is how it ends," he muttered, a self-mocking amusement coloring his voice. "Harsh life in the other world, and now this?"
He pressed himself against the rough bark of a large tree, trying to catch his breath.
"This is it", he thought, a wave of despair washing over him. "All that effort, all that struggle, for nothing. I should have stayed put. I should have been more careful. Damn it all! Why did I run through this stupid forest? I''m such an idiot!" He cursed himself, his thoughts a torrent of self-recrimination and regret.
Then, a flicker of hope ignited in the darkness of his despair.
He realized he had a sword in his inventory, but he didn''t pull it out. Instead, he felt the warm trickle of blood rolling down the side of his lip, tasting the metallic tang. One eye squeezed shut against the pain, his vision blurring. His jacket, once relatively clean, was now smeared with dirt and grime; his jeans fared no better. He saw the Hexhorn, a blur of motion, charging straight at him.
A wry smile stretched across his lips. "Come on, then," he rasped, his voice strained but defiant. "Hit me. Hit me already. Let''s get this over with." He extended a hand towards the charging beast, a gesture of almost mocking defiance.
The Hexhorn was unstoppable, its massive body a blur of motion. Just as its snout was about to connect with Tyler''s outstretched hand, a shimmering blue light erupted from his hand. The Hexhorn, seeing the sword materializing, desperately tried to stop, its legs skidding against the ground, but it was too late. With a desperate heave, Tyler drove the blade deep into the Hexhorn''s nose. The creature shrieked in agony, a sound both horrifying and strangely satisfying, before collapsing to the side with a heavy thud.
Tyler let out a long, shaky sigh of relief, breathing heavily. The tension draining from his body, he looked down at the fallen beast. Next to the corpse, a familiar text box shimmered into existence: `EXTRACT`.
Tyler groaned, a low, guttural sound of pain escaping his lips as he used the tree trunk to lever himself to his feet. His back screamed in protest, but adrenaline and relief warred with the agony. He looked down at the fallen Hexhorn, its six horns now oddly peaceful in death. "Extract," he muttered, the word barely audible above his ragged breathing.
The Hexhorn''s skin shimmered with a faint blue light, detaching itself from the underlying flesh. it vanished, seemingly absorbed into his inventory. The remaining bones and flesh, now exposed, pulsed with the same blue light before dissolving into sparkling blue dust, which then dissipated into thin air, as if swept away by an unseen wind.
Tyler checked his inventory. Another husk-like icon had appeared, identical to the one he''d received from the Crimson Wolf. He now had two hides, enough material to potentially craft something substantial. The thought of crafting armor, of protecting himself from future encounters, sparked a flicker of hope amidst the exhaustion and pain. He needed to find shelter, to rest, and to figure out how to turn these hides into something that could save his life.
Tyler, leaning heavily on the tree for support, muttered, "I wonder if I can craft..." He then thought, "Craft armor", and the system responded with a prompt: `Craft Armor? (Yes/No)`
He mentally selected ''Yes''. The system responded with a single word: `Crafting...` A faint whirring sound, almost imperceptible, emanated from the system display, as if some unseen mechanism was whirring into action. A progress bar, barely visible, seemed to fill slowly. The whirring continued for what felt like an eternity, then abruptly stopped.
`Crafting Complete.`
A new icon appeared in his inventory, resembling a simple, sleeveless tunic. It wasn''t quite a t-shirt, but it was close. A surge of relief washed over him.
Tyler mentally selected the newly crafted armor. A shimmering light enveloped his upper body, and the sleeveless tunic materialized. It was a curious garment, a blend of deep red and brown, reminiscent of the colors of the Crimson Wolf and the Hexhorn. It fit perfectly, surprisingly comfortable against his skin. The material felt like supple leather, yet surprisingly warm; the inside was lined with a soft, red fur. The three buttons down the front were neatly sewn, and the entire garment felt precisely crafted, tailored to his exact size. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him; the chill that had been clinging to him since his encounter with the Hexhorn was gone. It was sleeveless, but the material felt surprisingly protective, a welcome contrast to the vulnerability he''d felt moments before.
The system display suddenly appeared, and Tyler gasped. His defense had increased dramatically. A notification flashed: `Defense +20`. His defense had been boosted by a massive 20 points! He stared at the number, utterly astonished. This simple-looking tunic offered incredible protection. He touched the leather-like material of the armor, marveling at its unexpected properties.
Then, another text box appeared, this one reading: `Regular Clothing`. Tyler blinked, completely taken aback. "Regular clothing?" he muttered, incredulous. This wasn''t just regular clothing; it was a marvel of design, a blend of old-world craftsmanship and modern functionality. The simple, three-button design was both practical and strangely stylish, a fusion of eras and aesthetics. He couldn''t believe something so effective, so protective, was considered merely "regular clothing" by the system.
Despite the surprising boost to his defense, the pain in his back and chest remained a sharp, persistent reminder of his recent ordeal. Then, a realization struck him. He remembered leveling up to level 2 earlier, the pain he''d felt before the level-up, and the subsequent healing. He''d healed automatically upon leveling up! A surge of understanding washed over him. To heal further, he needed to level up again. And to level up, he needed to fight.
Slimes. Slimes were the easiest targets he knew. They were relatively weak, and provided a relatively safe way to gain experience. He started walking, cautiously, his senses heightened, careful to avoid detection. He moved slowly, silently, his new armor providing a sense of security he hadn''t felt before.
Then, something caught his eye. Embedded in the ground, something shimmered with an almost ethereal light, catching the moonlight like a diamond. But upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn''t a diamond; it was metal. The ethereal shimmer wasn''t from a single object, but from scattered pieces across the ground. As he approached, he saw it was metal¡ªscraps of metal, some gleaming brightly, others rusted and corroded. A surge of relief washed over him. Metal meant people. It meant he wasn''t alone. The rusted and aged state of the metal didn''t diminish his hope; it only added to the mystery. The creatures he''d encountered so far¡ªthe slimes, the Crimson Wolf, the Hexhorn¡ªwere unlike anything his ever seen. He''d begun to fear he might be the only human in this strange new world. But the presence of this discarded metal suggested otherwise. There were others. There were people.
He began digging carefully in the soft earth, unearthing more pieces. The discovery filled him with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
He unearthed the pieces: a rusted, broken fragment of a sword blade, a dented and corroded helmet, and a metal shoe, gleaming silver despite its age and wear, reminiscent of the knight''s armor he''d seen depicted in movies from his old world. The shoe, in particular, caught his eye; it was remarkably well-preserved, its silver surface still shining despite the rust and decay around it.
As he examined the pieces, a familiar blue shimmer enveloped each one. To his surprise, the metal fragments vanished. He checked his inventory; a single new icon appeared, depicting something that looked like a broken, tattered version of the sleeveless tunic icon Underneath the icon, the text read: `Metal Scraps`. He frowned, considering his options. "Can I craft anything from this?" he muttered to himself. The system responded instantly: `Craft Weapon? (Yes/No)`
A slow smile spread across Tyler''s face. "Yes," he said, "Craft weapon." The familiar whirring sound of the crafting process began, but this time, the progress bar filled far more quickly. In less than half a minute, the crafting process completed. He checked his inventory. A new icon appeared: a simple image of a sword.
He mentally selected `Equip`. Instantly, a sword materialized in his hand. It looked¡ underwhelming. Blunt, rusted, and clearly showing signs of significant wear and tear. He examined it closely. The system display confirmed his assessment: `Rusted Sword. Looks blunt and rusted. Won''t last very long.
He checked his inventory. A new icon appeared: a simple image of a sword. Instantly, the sword materialized in his hand. It looked¡ underwhelming. Old, rusty, and clearly blunt. The system display confirmed his assessment: `Rusted Sword. Blunt. Can be used as a stick. Attack: 26.`
Tyler stared at the attack stat, surprised. Twenty-six? That was surprisingly high. He ran a finger along the blade, feeling the surprisingly hard metal beneath the rust. It was far denser and more durable than his previous wooden sword; despite its bluntness and rusty appearance, it would be far more effective as a weapon. Even as a makeshift club, its weight and density would make it significantly more powerful than his previous weapon. He had a feeling this rusty sword, despite its flaws, would serve him well.
Groaning with the effort, Tyler climbed up a tree, using the rough bark to pull himself upward. "Almost there," he muttered, his breath catching in his throat. He reached the top, his breath ragged, and scanned the horizon. "The river," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "I''m heading the right way." In the distance, he could make out the dark ribbon of the river. "If I had a watch," he grumbled, "it''d probably be around 7 PM. Getting dark fast."
Then, something caught his eye. A faint plume of smoke rose into the night sky. "Smoke?!" he exclaimed, a surge of hope coursing through him. "That
means... people? Maybe a village? Finally!" The possibility filled him with a renewed sense of purpose and determination.
He scrambled down the tree, his movements quicker now, fueled by the promise of human contact. "Almost there," he muttered, his legs burning. "Just a little further..." But his relief was short-lived. As he reached the forest floor, a flash of black fur caught his eye. "What the¡ª?" he breathed, his voice laced with apprehension. Another black rabbit. This one, however, seemed different, somehow¡ unsettling. He felt a prickle of unease.
Chapter 5: Reached The River
The black rabbit twitched its nose, and then, beside it, the system display appeared: `Shadow Claw, Level 8`.
Tyler''s breath hitched. Level 8? He''d seen a rabbit like this before, a level 6, but this... this was different. "Eight?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. A cold dread washed over him. This was significantly stronger. "Damn," he muttered, taking an involuntary step back, his hand instinctively tightening on the hilt of his rusty sword. This felt¡ terrifying.
Before he could react, the Shadow Claw launched itself. It moved with terrifying speed, a blur of black fur and sharp claws. He tried to block with his sword, but he was too slow. The creature''s claws connected with his stomach, a searing pain exploding through him. The impact sent him sprawling backwards, tumbling onto the forest floor. He gasped, the air knocked from his lungs. "Son of a¡ª" he groaned, the pain sharp and immediate.
The system display reappeared: `Shadow Claw used skill: Shadow Strike.` He glanced down at his status. His HP: 13/33. One point of damage. He was already hurt, badly hurt, from the previous fight, and this attack, while not as devastating as he feared, was still a significant blow. "Okay," he gritted out, pushing himself up, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Think, Tyler, think¡" This wasn''t a fight he could win with brute force alone. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast.
The searing pain from the Shadow Claw''s attack lingered, but Tyler realized something crucial: the damage was minimal, only one measly point. His increased defense, thanks to that surprisingly effective "regular clothing," had significantly mitigated the blow. He pushed himself to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his stomach. He held out his rusty sword, scanning his surroundings, but the Shadow Claw was gone.
Then, the system display appeared again, its message stark and chilling: `Shadow Claw used Shadow Walk.` A cold wave of apprehension washed over him. He was facing an opponent capable of both incredible speed and stealth. This was going to be far more difficult than he initially thought.
Fear, cold and clammy, gripped Tyler. This was the first creature he''d encountered that the system had explicitly identified as using skills ¨C two skills, at that. Shadow Strike and Shadow Walk. "Two skills?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his heart. The implications sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn''t just a strong monster; it was a more "skilled" opponent. He looked around frantically, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, trying to locate the unseen predator. "Where is it?" he muttered, his breath catching in his throat.
The sound of rustling bushes, faint at first, grew steadily louder, closer. He could hear the almost imperceptible brushing of leaves against fur, the subtle sounds of something moving through the undergrowth. His heart hammered against his ribs. He took a hesitant step back, then another, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Great," he groaned, his voice laced with self-deprecation. "Just what I needed. I was planning on fighting slimes, easy XP to level up, craft better tools... But this? This is ridiculous."
The thought of running crossed his mind. "Should I run? Could I even outrun it?" he thought, his mind racing. But a stubborn streak of defiance flared within him. "No," he muttered, clenching his jaw. "I''m not running. Not this time, I might just end up getting attacked while running again."
A high-pitched shriek pierced the air from behind him. Before he could react, another blow slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. This hit was far worse than the first; his already injured back screamed in protest. He groaned, the pain intense and debilitating. He pushed himself up, clutching his back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Damn it!" he gritted out, his voice strained. The Shadow Claw was fast, incredibly fast, and he couldn''t see it.
Then, he heard two shrieks simultaneously, both close and menacing. Terror seized him. Two attacks, launched in perfect coordination. Before he could react, one Shadow Claw struck, its claws tearing into the back of his knee, bringing him crashing to the ground. As he fell, another Shadow Claw, already upon him, slashed across his eye. A searing, blinding pain erupted, and darkness consumed his vision in that eye. He cried out, a raw, desperate sound, as he instinctively let go of his sword, the rusty blade clattering to the ground. He scrambled to retrieve it with one hand, clutching his injured eye with the other. He was blind in one eye, and the pain was excruciating.
The pain in his eye was excruciating, a searing agony that eclipsed even the pain in his knee. "God, that hurts," he thought, his mind reeling. The memory of a past eye infection, caused by Mike''s cat ¨C the same Mike who''d had to send his feline roommate to his parents because he couldn''t handle the cat ¨C flashed through his mind. Ironically, that infection had been far less painful than this.
He momentarily loosened his grip on his injured eye, and a warm trickle of blood ran down his cheek, a crimson tear tracing a path through the dirt. He gritted his teeth, his other hand finding the hilt of his sword. He brought the blade up with both hands, bracing himself. Another shriek pierced the air, and he swung, the rusty blade connecting with something solid with a dull thwack.
A thud echoed behind him. He''d hit it. With a roar born of adrenaline and pain, Tyler turned and lunged forward, bringing his rusty sword down on the Shadow Claw''s head. He heard a sickening crack¡ªthe sound of skull fracturing¡ªfollowed by a small, pained shriek. The creature fell still. He''d killed one of them.
But his victory was short-lived. Another shriek, sharp and close, sliced through the air, followed by a searing pain in his back. He gritted his teeth, a groan escaping his lips, and let go of his sword, collapsing onto his stomach. The world swam before his remaining eye, the pain overwhelming. He had won a battle, but another Shadow Claw remained. He was badly wounded, his body screaming in protest. "I need help," he thought, the desperate plea echoing in his mind. But the thought was quickly dismissed. "No," he muttered, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. "I''ve never received help from anyone anyway, so why would I start now?"
A searing pain lanced through his eye and shoulder, making his arms tremble as he struggled to his feet. A single tear rolled down his uninjured cheek, while a tear of blood traced a crimson path from his injured eye. He stood, swaying slightly, his body wracked with pain.
Another shriek sliced through the air. He reacted instantly, dodging to the side, but the Shadow Claw''s claws still grazed his shoulder, tearing through his clothing. He reached for his sword, his grip unsteady but determined. He listened intently, anticipating the next shriek. When it came, he swung the sword with a grunt, putting all his remaining strength into the blow. A loud crack echoed through the forest, followed by a final, desperate shriek. He had struck his target. He had killed it. He collapsed to his knees, his body spent, but alive.
He looked up, groaning, expecting lingering pain. Then, the familiar blue shimmer of the system interface appeared before him, and the words LEVEL UP! blazed across the screen. A wave of relief washed over him, so intense it almost stole his breath. He could feel it ¨C the warmth spreading through his body, mending the torn flesh, soothing the aching muscles. He blinked, his left eye, moments before filled with agonizing pain and darkness, now clear and sharp. Vision returned, and with it, a surge of exhilaration.
"Whoa," he breathed, his voice thick with surprise and wonder. "It¡ it actually worked. Again." He couldn''t help but smile, a mixture of disbelief and relief spreading across his face. Every time he leveled up, the healing was instantaneous, a miraculous restoration that defied all logic. He quickly stood, his movements fluid and effortless, and ran a hand over his skin, feeling the smooth, unbroken surface where moments before there had been wounds. There was no pain, only a pleasant warmth. He was glad to be healed; the exhaustion was significantly lessened. He still had a long way to go to reach the river. The forest felt menacing, even now.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He checked his stats:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 3
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 35/35 MP: 31/31
STR: 15 AGI: 13 DEF: 32
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
He wasn''t happy, not really. He was relieved, yes, but the forest still felt dangerous. He still had a long journey ahead of him. The increased defense¡ªa result of his level up and the armor he wore¡ªwas a small comfort, but it didn''t erase the fear. He needed to get to the river.
He glanced to his left and saw his rusty sword lying on the ground where it had fallen. He picked it up, the weight familiar and comforting in his hand. This blade, this battered, seemingly useless piece of metal, had actually worked. He wondered if his old wooden sword would have fared as well against those Shadow Claws. He examined the edge of the sword, noting the dullness. It wasn''t nearly as sharp as the wooden sword had been, yet it had been tough enough to kill those creatures. He looked around for the bodies of the Shadow Claws, but they were gone. Vanished. Confusion clouded his mind. He''d hoped to at least salvage their hides, perhaps use them to craft something useful. But now... now there was nothing left but the silence of the forest.
The system display shimmered into existence again, its message stark and unwelcome: `XP reduced by 25% due to lack of Goddess''s Blessing.` Tyler scratched his head, the gesture more out of frustration than itch. Goddess''s Blessing? What in the world was that? A goddess¡ wasn''t that just a female god? And what did a goddess have to do with anything? This whole system, this bizarre game-like overlay on reality¡ it was all so confusing. He didn''t understand any of it. How had he even gotten here? One minute he''d been in his room, frustrated, angrily smashing a flower pendant Mike had given him¡ and the next, he was in this creepy forest, fighting monsters. The pendant¡ maybe that had something to do with it? But how? The questions swirled in his mind, unanswered, a nagging sense of unease settling over him.
His throat felt like sandpaper. He was desperately thirsty. The river. He''d been wanting to reach the river for so long, but the constant threat of monsters had kept him on edge, forcing him to focus on survival. Now, though, the immediate danger seemed to have passed. It was only a two-kilometer walk from where he''d fought the slimes, the hexhorn, and the Shadow Claws. He should have reached the river by now.
He started walking, the thought of water a welcome distraction from the lingering unease. Then, an idea sparked in his mind. He could climb a tree, get a better vantage point. Maybe from up high, he could spot any remaining enemies, plan his route, and even locate more slimes to fight. The thought of gaining more experience and leveling up again spurred him on. He scanned the area, searching for a suitable tree, his thirst momentarily forgotten in the pursuit of a strategic advantage.
He climbed another tree, the rough bark scratching against his hands. From his vantage point, he could see the river. It was incredibly close, just yards away. Relief washed over him; the end of his arduous journey was in sight.
But his relief was short-lived. His eyes scanned the area, and he spotted several slimes, more than he''d seen in any other area so far. It seemed this area was a slime hotspot. Then, his gaze fell upon a more dramatic scene: a Hexhorn, its horns gleaming faintly in the moonlight, was chasing a Shadow Claw through the undergrowth. He could see other creatures scattered throughout the area, their locations now clear to him. He had a map of the immediate dangers, a crucial piece of information that would greatly aid his journey to the river for now
From his vantage point, he noticed the smoke he''d seen earlier from the other tree was still visible, though fainter now, suggesting a fire further off. He climbed down, the familiar scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling his nostrils. Water. He needed water, and the slimes offered a chance to gain more experience. He chose a route that would take him towards both the river and the slimes, a calculated risk.
"Ugh, slimes," he muttered, the thought of their grotesque movements sending a shiver down his spine. "But XP is XP. And I''m thirsty as hell." The river was close, but the path wasn''t clear. He would have to fight his way through. "Let''s do this," he said, a grim determination hardening his features.
He took the path, his senses on high alert. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Hexhorn. It was preoccupied, its nose seemingly scraping against the inside of a small hole in the ground, completely oblivious to his presence. A wave of fear washed over him, but he forced himself to remain calm, moving slowly and carefully. He passed the Hexhorn without incident, his heart pounding in his chest.
He could hear the sound of rushing water, a promise of relief, but the river remained unseen. Then, before him, three slimes appeared from a nearby bush. The one on his left was a typical, grotesque slime, clearly marked SLIME LEVEL 4. To his right, a smaller one, marked SLIME LEVEL 6. But it was the slime in the middle that stole his breath ¨C a big, round, bluish creature clearly labeled SLIME LEVEL 10.
"A Level 10...?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. He''d faced higher-level enemies before, but the sheer size and the clear designation of this slime made it feel different.
The Level 4 slime attacked first, launching itself at him with the same grotesque, unnerving movements he''d come to expect. He reacted instantly, bringing his sword down in a swift, decisive strike. The slime fell to the ground, crumbling into a pile of blue dust that quickly vanished.
Before he could react, the Level 6 slime launched itself at him. He parried the attack, but the slime didn''t dissolve. It simply fell to the ground, seemingly unharmed. Then, a system message appeared: `Slime activated Bash skill.`
Before he could process the message, the large, round Level 10 slime struck him in the stomach. The force of the blow sent him sprawling backward, his feet skidding on the ground. He braced himself, expecting searing pain, but the impact, though forceful, was surprisingly muted thanks to his armor. It felt like a powerful shove, more than a crushing blow. He still doubled over, clutching his stomach, winded more than injured
He felt his lips crack as he licked them, the dryness a stark reminder of his desperate need for water. Ignoring the discomfort, he charged at the Level 10 slime, adrenaline surging through him. But before he could reach it, a slimy mass slammed into his side¡ªthe Level 6 slime, which he''d foolishly assumed was defeated. He stumbled, momentarily off-balance, and before he could recover, the Level 10 slime struck again, this time sending him hurtling backward into a tree trunk. His shoulder slammed against the rough bark, a sharp pain shooting through him. He groaned. A glance at his status showed his HP had dropped to 31.
Ignoring the pain and the drop in health, he focused on the Level 6 slime. As it launched itself at him, he reacted instinctively, bringing his sword down in a swift, decisive strike. The blade found its mark, and this time, the slime dissolved into dust. The Level 10 slime remained, a formidable opponent standing between him and the river, which was, in fact, very close, He was bruised, winded, and his thirst was almost unbearable, but the river was within reach.
The Level 10 slime, using its Bash skill, launched itself at him. He dodged, barely avoiding the impact. The slime tried again, but he dodged that attack as well. He found himself surprised; the slime, despite its size and level, seemed slower than the Shadow Claws he''d faced earlier. It lunged a third time. This time, instead of dodging, he drove his sword through the creature, the blade passing cleanly through its gelatinous form.
A strange, almost musical kyuu sound echoed as the slime, in mid-air, dissolved into shimmering blue dust that quickly faded away.
A genuine smile, the first real one in a long time, spread across his face. He had done it. He had survived the encounter. He ran towards the river, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step¡ªa vibrant rush, a whispering cascade, a symphony of liquid movement that promised solace and refreshment. He reached the bank, and the sight of the river, gleaming softly under the moonlight, filled him with a profound sense of relief and accomplishment.
He knelt, his knees sinking into the cool grass, and cupped his hands, scooping up the water. He drank deeply, splashing the water in his mouth, the cool liquid a balm to his parched throat. He drank again and again, until the intense thirst began to recede. A long, shuddering breath escaped his lips, a sigh of pure relief.
Standing, he looked towards the faint smoke on the horizon, a persistent reminder of the journey that still lay ahead.
He then remembered his subjugation skill, his eyes widening in realization. He scratched his head, muttering, "Idiot! I completely forgot about that!" He could have used it on the Hexhorn, or even one of the slimes. "Well," he mused, "there''s always another time. Maybe there are stronger creatures out there where it would be more useful." He scratched his head again, considering his options. Crossing the river was still a problem, but as he began to follow the river downstream, a surprising sight met his eyes. A tree, laden with fruit, stood before him. The fruit was unlike anything he''d ever seen¡ªa curious blend of mango and apple, perhaps. He didn''t know what they were, but for the first time since he''d entered this strange world, he had found food.
Chapter 6: finally Found Someone
He approached the tree, only to discover it was unlike any he''d seen before. It had branches too high to climb, and the fruit hung just out of reach. He tried jumping, but he couldn''t reach them. Grabbing his waist in frustration, he considered his options. His eyes fell upon his sword. With a sudden idea, he threw the weapon, the blade striking the fruit with a satisfying thud. Several fruits fell to the ground.
As he picked up one of the fallen fruits, he noticed its unusual softness, almost like a ripe tomato. It felt strangely delicate, almost melting in his hand. Purple juice oozed from its cut surface. Then, a system message appeared: `Venom Bloom. Caution: Poisonous.`
A sharp hiss escaped his lips as an intense itching sensation erupted across his skin. "Damn it!" he swore, scratching frantically at his arm. He stopped abruptly, realizing he was only making it worse, digging his nails into his already irritated skin.
He ran to the river, plunging his hand into the cool water. The purple juice washed away, leaving behind a lingering burning sensation. He stared at his clean hand, then back at the Venom blooms, a wave of disappointment washing over him. He''d thought he''d finally found food, but now he only had a belly full of water.
Then an idea struck him. If the Venom Bloom fruit was this itchy and dangerous, maybe he could use it to his advantage. He eyed his sword, a glint of cunning in his eyes. He almost reached for another fruit, then hesitated, remembering the burning itch. Instead, he carefully used the blade of his sword to scrape against the surface of a Venom Bloom, allowing the purple juice to coat the blade. It wasn''t a perfect application, but it was enough. He now had a weapon coated in a potent, if somewhat messy, poison.
He looked at the remaining Venom Blooms, a thoughtful expression etching itself onto his face. "What if..." he murmured, "...I put these in my inventory?" The idea sparked in his mind, a tiny ember of possibility in the gathering gloom. And as if in answer to his unspoken question, a shimmering blue light enveloped the remaining fruits. They pulsed with an ethereal glow, the purple juice momentarily intensifying before fading as the fruits themselves dematerialized, leaving no residue behind. They were gone, vanished, absorbed into the digital space of his inventory. He checked his inventory, a grin splitting his face. The entry was stark, efficient: `Venom Bloom x6`. Six potent, poisonous fruits, safely stored, ready for use. A satisfied smile touched his lips. This unexpected discovery, born from a near-miss with a poisonous snack, might prove far more useful than he initially thought. The night was far from over, but he felt a surge of renewed purpose. He had a plan, and the cool water from the river still lingered pleasantly on his tongue.
He scanned his surroundings, still pondering the river crossing. Should he continue downstream, searching for a shallower point or a natural bridge? The thought of the village, and the possibility of other people, spurred him onward. Then, from across the river, a movement caught his eye. A small wolf, its fur the color of a twilight sky, emerged from the shadows. It paused, its head cocked, before gracefully stepping down to the water''s edge to drink. As he looked at the creature, a system message appeared: Gloomfang Level 5. He stared, surprised. It was unlike any wolf he''d seen before, though its lithe form and predatory grace reminded him faintly of the crimson wolf he''d encountered in the forest during the day. This one, however, was smaller, and its fur held an almost ethereal quality.
Suddenly, a notification appeared beneath the water, just below where the Gloomfang stood. The sight that followed sent a wave of icy fear through Tyler. The system displayed: Lucker Lv 32. The words were red ¨C the first time Tyler had seen that alarming color. Instantly, an eel-like creature burst from the water, seizing the Gloomfang by the neck and dragging it beneath the surface. Tyler stumbled back, splashed by the churning water as the Gloomfang fought desperately for its life. Then, silence. The struggle ended as abruptly as it began; the creature was dead.
Tyler fled, running into the forest and instinctively heading away from the river. His original plan ¨C to follow the river downstream ¨C was forgotten. He couldn''t bring himself to approach the water again after what he''d witnessed. "I was careless," he muttered, the words laced with self-reproach. "What if that thing had bitten my head off while I was still drinking?" The thought lingered, a cold knot of fear tightening in his chest.
His leg snagged on something warm and hard, sending him sprawling onto the forest floor. Adrenaline surged through him as he twisted around, his gaze locking onto a horrifying sight. The creature before him was a grotesque fusion of eel and snake, a nightmare given form. It possessed no visible eyes, only a gaping maw filled with rows of needle-sharp teeth, pointing wickedly upwards. The image of those teeth piercing his flesh sent a fresh wave of icy terror through him.
He scrambled backward, his back scraping against the grassy field, his eyes never leaving the creature. A system notification materialized beside it: Slither Lv 7. The creature hissed, its sinuous body beginning to coil, preparing to strike. With a desperate cry, Tyler swung his rusty sword, a desperate gamble. A few droplets of the Venom Bloom juice, still clinging to the blade, splashed across the Slither''s head and mouth. A high-pitched shriek tore through the air as the poison took effect, the creature writhing in agony.
Tyler scrambled to his feet as the Slither, fueled by a desperate, venomous rage, slithered faster, its tentacle-like movements filling him with revulsion. He backed away, swinging his sword in wide, desperate arcs, the rusty blade a blur.
"''Get away! Get away!" he screamed, his voice raw with fear and exertion. The Slither reared its head, hissing a final, venomous threat before collapsing, lifeless, onto the forest floor. A wave of relief washed over Tyler, but he continued to retreat, keeping a wary eye on the fallen creature. Then, the system notification appeared:
Achievement Unlocked: One That Wields Poison
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 3
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 35/35 MP: 31/31
STR: 15 AGI: 13 DEF: 33
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
A single point had been added to his Defense. The small victory, however, did little to ease the lingering unease that clung to him like the damp forest air.
Tyler stared down at the still form of the Slither. He shuddered, imagining the consequences if those needle-sharp teeth had found their mark. His HP would have plummeted, he was sure of it. He watched, fascinated and slightly disappointed, as the creature began to transform. It disintegrated into a fine blue dust that shimmered briefly before vanishing completely, as if snatched away by an unseen wind. He''d expected a system prompt, a notification instructing him to extract something ¨C hide, teeth ¨C anything. But nothing appeared. The usual prompt was absent.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He glanced around, noticing the deepening shadows. The forest was growing darker by the second. The thought of heading down the river, his original plan was quickly dismissed. It was too late, too risky. He needed shelter, and he needed it now. The chilling encounter with the Slither had driven home the harsh reality of his situation: survival in this world demanded constant vigilance and a healthy dose of caution.
Tyler looked around, assessing his options. A sturdy tree loomed nearby, offering the possibility of refuge. But the memory of his earlier naivet¨¦ ¨C his assumption that the river held no danger before encountering the Lucker ¨C lingered. He''d been so certain of the river''s safety, only to be proven horribly wrong. The thought that similar unseen creatures might inhabit the trees sent a shiver down his spine. Still, the open ground offered little protection; another Slither, or something worse, could easily ambush him there.
He made his decision. He approached the tree, his movements cautious. He grasped the lowest branch, testing its strength before pulling himself upward. Branch by branch, he climbed, his with effort, until he finally reached the relative safety of the canopy. Once settled in the treetop, an idea sparked in Tyler''s mind. He spotted two sturdy branches, one above the other. Carefully, he began breaking off smaller branches, laying them across the lower branch to create a makeshift platform, a crude bed amongst the leaves. It wasn''t comfortable, but it was far safer than the forest floor.
He rested, relieved to find the tree free of immediate threats. A strange silence hung in the air, however. No birdsong, no rustling leaves ¨C just an unnerving quiet. He wondered if even the birds of this world were somehow¡ different. His thoughts drifted back to his old life, to a seemingly distant time when he''d been watching TV with his friend Mike.
The memory of a seemingly distant past surfaced: he and Mike, sprawled on the apartment couch, watching the Discovery Channel. A survival show played on the screen, depicting a man struggling in a dense jungle, desperately searching for water. The man''s cries of thirst were almost comical. Mike, completely engrossed, was genuinely concerned. Tyler, however, scoffed, certain the show was staged, that the man was being given water off-screen. He''d never been a fan of survival shows; the whole genre struck him as contrived and melodramatic. Mike''s insistence on watching, his refusal to change the channel, had been one of Tyler''s many minor annoyances with his friend. Yet, despite their differences, Mike had been a good friend. Now, a wave of longing washed over him. He yearned for the comfort of his apartment, even with its lack of purpose and the absence of a steady job¡
Tyler gazed up at the night sky, a vast expanse of unfamiliar stars. His thoughts continued to drift back to his old life, the stark contrast between his apartment and his current desperate struggle for survival jarring and surreal. Just hours ago, he''d been there, safe and sound; now, he was battling monstrous creatures in a world governed by cryptic system messages and unexplained mechanics. It felt like a game, a twisted, brutal game, yet the pain, the exhaustion, the pounding of his heart ¨C these were undeniably real. The adrenaline that had kept him going was finally fading, and despite the lingering unease, sleep, a much-needed respite, claimed him.
*******
Even through his closed eyelids, Tyler heard it: the chirping of birds. The sound, so incongruous with the unnerving silence of the previous night, stirred him from sleep. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry and unfocused. The rising sun, streaming through the leaves, painted the forest in a warm, dappled light. Then, panic seized him. He wasn''t in his bed. He wasn''t in his apartment. Instinctively, he shifted, his body teetering precariously on the edge of his makeshift platform. He almost tumbled from the tree, his weight shifting dangerously before he managed to grab onto a branch, his body hanging precariously. And then, he saw something utterly unexpected.
In the distance, a figure emerged from the mist rising from the forest floor. As the sun climbed higher, Tyler made out the details: a man, clad in clothing that seemed strangely out of place ¨C roughspun brown fabric reminiscent of historical dramas, of medieval knights or fantasy stories. But it was the sword that caught Tyler''s eye. It was magnificent, gleaming even from this distance, a far cry from his own rusty blade. The man was far away, but Tyler felt a sudden surge of hope.
"Hey!" Tyler shouted, his voice hoarse from sleep and exertion. The words were swallowed by the distance; the man, seemingly oblivious, continued on his way.
Tyler considered his options. He could stay in the tree, but the man was moving away. A decision formed in his mind. With a deep breath, he released his grip on the branch. He landed hard on his backside, the impact jarring his body. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled to his feet and broke into a run, heading towards the distant figure, a flicker of purpose igniting within him.
As Tyler ran, the system notification appeared:
Achievement Unlocked: Night Survived in the Forest
A further message followed, detailing the achievement''s reward:
```
DEF +4
```
His Defense had increased by four points! A small victory, but a welcome one. He pushed onward, his pace relentless. Then, another system message flashed before his eyes:
Hexhorn Lv 8 detected
Panic seized him. From the bushes beside the path, a creature emerged¡
The familiar creature ¨C a warthog-like beast with six horns and four eyes ¨C emerged from the undergrowth, charging directly at him. Tyler gritted his teeth. Fear warred with a burgeoning sense of determination. He couldn''t let that man disappear; he needed answers. This was his chance.
He didn''t dodge. Instead, he ran straight toward the Hexhorn, timing his approach perfectly. With a powerful leap, he landed squarely on the creature''s head, using its momentum to propel himself forward. He kept running, his legs pumping, his heart pounding. The Hexhorn, momentarily stunned, skidded to a halt before turning and resuming the chase. Tyler, however, felt a surge of exhilaration. His increased agility was evident; he was matching the Hexhorn''s speed, a feat he wouldn''t have been able to accomplish before. He ran, the forest blurring around him, the Hexhorn hot on his heels, the chase a desperate, exhilarating race against an unknown future.
Tyler ran, his lungs burning, his legs screaming in protest. "Wait¡ hold on¡" he gasped, his breath ragged. Then, a system notification flashed before his eyes:
Hexhorn used skill: Charge
The Hexhorn''s shriek ¨C a high-pitched oinking sound ¨C intensified as it surged forward, its speed noticeably increasing. Just as panic threatened to overwhelm him, the man from earlier came into view, momentarily stunned by the sight of the charging beast.
"What the¡ª?!" the man exclaimed, his voice sharp with surprise. Before he could react fully, Tyler threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the Hexhorn''s deadly charge. The man reacted instantly, whirling his gleaming sword in a swift, precise arc. With a sickening slash, the blade sliced through the Hexhorn''s snout, cleaving it cleanly in two. The beast collapsed, its lifeblood staining the forest floor. The man, having dispatched the creature with terrifying efficiency, turned to look at Tyler.
The man, sword still dripping with Hexhorn blood, turned his gaze to Tyler, who lay on the ground, his heart hammering against his ribs. The point of the magnificent blade was directed squarely at him. A cold dread washed over Tyler as the man spoke, his voice low and dangerous.
"Who are you?"
Then, the system notification appeared, revealing the man''s identity:
```
Human: James Grone
Level 48
```
Another notification followed, cryptic and intriguing:
```
Blessing of the Pendant: Universal Comprehension
```
Chapter 7: A Strange Boy In The Woods
James Grone awoke with a groan, the rough-hewn timbers of his bed digging into his side. He peeled one eyelid open, the other stubbornly glued shut by sleep and the lingering effects of cheap ale. A dull ache pulsed behind his eye, a familiar phantom pain from a long-ago battle ¨C a scar he¡¯d long since stopped thinking about. He sat up, stretching stiff muscles, the creak of the wooden floorboards a familiar sound in the pre-dawn quiet. The sky outside was still dark, but the faintest hint of light on the horizon betrayed the coming dawn.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed his sword from beside the bed, and then headed for the door. He paused at the threshold, the scent of woodsmoke and stale ale heavy in the air. The woman behind the counter, her face still pale from sleep, looked up as he approached.
"Morning," Grone grunted, his voice rough from sleep.
"Morning to you too, Grone," she replied, her voice flat. "Same as always?"
"Yeah," he said, already turning to leave. "Just the usual."
James Grone stepped out into the base, the air still cool and carrying the scent of damp earth. The pre-dawn light was growing stronger, painting the rough-hewn buildings in shades of grey and brown. The base itself was a rough-hewn collection of buildings nestled on the edge of a vast, dark forest, a place notorious for its dangerous creatures. A sturdy wooden palisade, reinforced with magically-enhanced logs ¨C the work of skilled hunter-mages ¨C encircled the settlement, providing a vital defense against the constant threat of animal attacks from the woods. This protective barrier, a common sight in all the scattered hunter bases across the land, was a testament to the ever-present dangers faced by those who dared to hunt in these wilds. The sounds of adventurers ¨C mostly D-Ranks and E-Ranks, judging by their gear ¨C were relatively muted at this early hour, but the familiar scene was still a grim tableau of the endless grind.
Grone walked towards the large central tent, the hub of the base where quests were accepted and completed. He ducked inside, the canvas flapping slightly behind him. The air inside was thick with the smells of sweat, leather, and woodsmoke. Gary, a C-Rank hunter, was already there, meticulously cleaning his hunting knife. He was younger than Grone, perhaps by a decade, but his confident posture and the gleam of his well-maintained equipment spoke volumes.
"Grone," Gary said, without looking up. His tone was casual, almost dismissive. "Still plugging away at it, eh?"
Grone grunted, his expression unchanged. He didn''t bother to reply.
Gary chuckled, a sound that grated on Grone''s nerves. "You know, for someone your age, you''re remarkably persistent. I was your rank just a few years ago. Now look at me. C-Rank. I''m only 22, by the way. You should just quit while you''re ahead. Save yourself the trouble. Some folks just ain''t cut out for this life, you know? No natural talent."
Grone finally looked up, his gaze unwavering. "I''ll quit when I''m ready," he said, his voice low and steady. "And that won''t be today."
Gary smirked. "Suit yourself. But don''t come crying to me when you''re still a D-Rank when you''re old and grey." He returned to his knife, the click of steel against steel a mocking counterpoint to Grone''s simmering anger. He paused, then added with a sneer, "And let''s be honest, at this rate, ''old and grey'' is just around the corner for you."
Ignoring Gary''s continued taunts, Grone strode to the long counter that stretched across the back of the tent. Several other hunters were already receiving quests, the rhythmic scratching of quills against parchment a constant background hum. He scanned the quest board behind Serena, his gaze lingering on the various papers pinned there. Most were the usual D-Rank and E-Rank fare ¨C monster hunts, resource gathering, and the like. Then he saw it: a quest pinned near the bottom, almost hidden amongst the others. A crude drawing of several vibrant, purple fruits adorned the top ¨C Venom Bloom fruits. Beneath it, the rank designation was stark and unexpected: **C-Rank**. A wave of confusion washed over him.
"Serena," he called to the woman behind the counter, his voice gruff but polite. "I''ll take that Venom Bloom fruit quest."
Serena, a woman with bright, welcoming eyes, looked up, a slight smile playing on her lips, which quickly faded as she processed his request. "The C-Rank one? Are you sure, Grone? You''re a D-Rank hunter. That''s quite a jump in difficulty. It''s not just the fruits themselves; those Venom Blooms are poisonous, and handling them requires skill and care. But it''s primarily the location that makes it a C-Rank. They grow deep within the forest, near the territories of some rather nasty creatures. A D-Rank hunter would be hard-pressed to survive the journey, let alone the harvest."
"I know you sometimes struggle with even D-Rank quests, Grone," Serena continued, her voice laced with concern. "While I appreciate your persistence, I can''t in good conscience let you take on a C-Rank mission. It''s simply too dangerous."The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Grone''s jaw tightened. "Please, Serena," he pleaded, his voice surprisingly soft. "I know you for a while now. Remember that time I helped you carry those supplies? It was a real slog, but I got it done. I can handle this."
Serena hesitated, her gaze drifting to the quest board, then back to Grone''s determined face. She considered his words, remembering his help with the supplies. It had been a difficult task, and Grone had persevered without complaint.
After a moment of thoughtful silence, a small smile touched her lips. "Alright, Grone," she conceded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But this is between us. Officially, you''re still not taking this quest. If the manager finds out I gave a C-Rank quest to a D-Rank hunter... well, let''s just say I''d be looking for a new job, and finding work these days isn''t easy. I was lucky to get in here, thanks to some connections. So, this is strictly under the table." She slid him a small, official-looking book, and he signed his name on the designated line of the quest paper. She then discreetly handed him the quest paper. He folded it carefully, tucking it into his satchel. As he turned to leave, he paused.
"Thank you, Serena," he said, his voice low, a hint of gratitude in his tone. He then turned and walked away, leaving Serena to her work, the weight of her secret a small burden she was willing to bear.
As Grone walked away, Gary looked at him with a mysterious grin. "Oh, taking another quest, I see," he drawled. "Well, let''s just hope you won''t fail this one. Good luck, old man."
Grone¡¯s initial annoyance at Gary¡¯s taunt quickly curdled into a deeper sadness. He knew Gary wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. The younger man¡¯s words, though delivered with mocking cruelty, held a kernel of truth. He was too old to be a D-Rank hunter. But the anger he felt was swallowed by a heavier emotion ¨C a weary acceptance of his own limitations, a stubborn refusal to give up despite the odds. He couldn''t unleash his frustration on a naive kid who, in his own way, had simply stated a fact. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. He headed into the forest, the dense trees swallowing him whole, the quest for the Venom Blooms beginning.
He walked deeper and deeper into the forest, the oppressive canopy shutting out the faint light of the rising sun. A cold dread gnawed at him; the thought of encountering a high-level beast filled him with a chilling sense of helplessness. Anything level 54 or above would almost certainly mean death. He¡¯d faced a level 53 before, barely surviving. That quest had been a disaster; not only had he failed to earn the promised reward, but his injuries had resulted in significant medical expenses, eating into his already meager savings. The memory sent a fresh wave of self-recrimination washing over him.
He pressed onward, his steps heavy with the weight of his anxieties. Then, he saw it ¨C a small, glistening slime. Without hesitation, he lashed out, his sword cleaving through the creature with ease. It dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind only a faint shimmer. He barely registered the kill, continuing his trek deeper into the woods, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves under his boots and the persistent thrum of his own apprehension.
Continuing his trek, he came to a narrow part of the river where the water thinned, allowing him to easily jump across. He pressed onward, his senses heightened. Then, a flash of crimson fur ¨C a crimson wolf ¨C charged from the undergrowth. It lunged, but Grone was faster, his reflexes honed by years of hunting. He slashed at the wolf with a swift, precise movement, the blade finding its mark. Crimson wolves, despite their ferocious appearance and dangerous bite, were relatively easy to kill. Their short lifespans and weak defenses meant even an E-Rank adventurer could take one down. Grone knew this, and the swift kill only served to reinforce his growing unease; if these were the only challenges he faced, the C-Rank designation for this quest seemed wildly out of proportion.
With the crimson wolf dispatched, a grim realization settled over Grone: he was deep within a high-level monster zone. The urgency of his quest intensified. He followed the river downstream, his eyes scanning the banks for any sign of the Venom Bloom trees. He knew he''d ventured far beyond the river''s edge, into territory where dangerous creatures lurked, both in and out of the water. Then, he saw it ¨C a large, green snake, about five meters long, lying in wait amongst the undergrowth. Before Grone could react, the snake spat a glob of venomous green goo. Grone rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the projectile. But the snake was quick. It coiled with surprising speed, launching itself towards him. In a heartbeat, it wrapped around his neck, its slimy scales cold against his skin. He knew instantly the danger he was in; a single bite from this creature could be fatal. These were among the deadliest in the woods. Without hesitation, he plunged his knife into the snake''s neck, aiming for a vital point.
The snake shrieked, a high-pitched, guttural sound, as Grone, holding his neck, wrestled it free. He slammed the creature against the ground, again and again, until it lay still. He released his grip, breathing heavily, a coughing fit wracking his body. He knew the slime was dangerous, its corrosive properties a threat even if it hadn''t bitten him. He hurried to the river, ignoring the risk of whatever might lurk beneath the surface, and quickly washed the slime from his neck and exposed skin. The cold water stung the irritated skin, but he knew it was a necessary precaution. A wave of regret washed over him; he should have brought clean water from the base, but the exorbitant cost had always deterred him. He continued his search, the growing certainty that he might not find the Venom Blooms adding to his mounting frustration and despair.
He walked deeper into the woods, the sun now halfway risen in the sky. The increased light brought with it a chilling awareness: more dangerous creatures would be awake and active. Doubt gnawed at him. Maybe this was another failed mission, destined to end in disappointment and further financial hardship. He turned to retrace his steps, deciding to pass by the river one last time on his way back. The Venom Blooms, according to the quest details, grew near the water''s edge, and he couldn''t leave without at least one final attempt. As he walked, he heard a sound ¨C a faint, almost imperceptible call, like a whispered "Hey." He ignored it, not even bothering to turn his head. It was likely just his imagination, a trick of the forest playing on his already frayed nerves. He pressed on, his resolve hardening despite the growing sense of foreboding.
As he continued his trek, a sound reached his ears ¨C the distinct crunch of leaves and twigs, indicating something or someone was approaching from behind. He spun around, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. A boy, almost Gary''s age, stood there, clad in a curious mix of red and brown leather armor. Before Grone could react, the boy leaped aside, narrowly avoiding a charging creature that emerged from the trees. It was a hexhorn ¨C a warthog-like beast with six horns and four eyes ¨C its tusks gleaming menacingly. Without hesitation, Grone raised his sword, bringing it down in a swift, powerful arc. The blade sliced through the hexhorn''s nose and upper face, a clean, decisive blow.
The hexhorn shrieked, a high-pitched, agonized sound, before collapsing, its lifeblood staining the forest floor. Grone, his sword still dripping with blood, pointed the weapon at the boy, who stared back, wide-eyed and clearly frightened. "Who are you?" Grone demanded, his voice gruff but laced with caution. The boy''s attire was peculiar; his shoes and trousers were unlike anything Grone had ever seen. The leather armor, however, was well-crafted, suggesting a degree of skill and purpose. Despite the quality of his gear, the boy looked exhausted, his hair disheveled and adorned with small twigs and leaves, a testament to his recent struggle.
Chapter 8: Slimes Can Fuse!?
Tyler, trembling, quickly raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Please," he pleaded, his voice high-pitched with fear. "You don''t have to hurt me."
Grone stared, his bloodied sword momentarily forgotten. He''d expected fear, and he heard it clearly in the boy''s voice, though the fluency of his Natorian was still surprising. Grone was surprised; Tyler looked foreign, his clothes and mannerisms unlike any he''d encountered before." You speak Natorian?" Grone questioned. Tyler''s eyes widened in confusion. "Natorian? What''s Natorian?"
Grone pushed his advantage, the sword tip now inches from Tyler''s chest. "It''s the language we speak here. "What is a boy like you doing so deep in this forest?" Grone asked, his suspicion lessening but not entirely gone.
Tyler''s voice was barely a whisper, laced with a rising panic. "I... I don''t know. One minute I was in my room... and then the next, I was here. I think I''m going crazy. Everything is so strange. The creatures... I''ve never seen anything like them before. And... and these messages... keep popping up... like a screen in front of my eyes..." He wrung his hands, his voice cracking. "I need help. I don''t know if any of this is real."
Grone stared at him, a mixture of confusion and disbelief etched on his weathered face. This boy''s story was far stranger than any monster he''d encountered in this forest.
Grone sighed, tugging his blade away from Tyler''s chest. "You''re not a hunter. I don''t know how you got into this forest, but you need to get out of here. I''m finished with my hunt, so follow me."
Tyler nodded eagerly, relief washing over his face. "Thank you," he whispered, falling into step beside Grone.
As they walked, Grone glanced back at Tyler. "By any chance, have you seen any Venom Bloom fruits?"
Tyler''s eyes widened. He knew what Venom Bloom fruits were. A jolt of recognition shot through him as he remembered storing some in his inventory. The inventory! The system wasn''t a hallucination. It was real. This man... he seemed to know about the fruits. A wave of panic subsided, replaced by a surge of curiosity and a desperate need to understand. He thought about his stats, and then, superimposed over his vision, they appeared:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 3
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 35/35 MP: 31/31
STR: 15 AGI: 13 DEF: 37
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
Seeing the stats, Tyler muttered, his eyes wide, "It''s real..." He continued walking beside Grone, a low hum of disbelief escaping his lips.
Grone, hearing the murmur, said, "What did you say?", looking at Tyler as they walked. Then, without breaking stride, Grone''s hand shot out, clamping down on Tyler''s chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Don''t move," Grone hissed, his eyes fixed on something ahead.
From the bushes, something emerged. It was a Pixel. A creature that looked like a iridescent being, vaguely resembling a peacock, yet utterly unlike anything Tyler had ever seen. Beside the Pixel, text appeared: Pixel LVL 26. Tyler''s breath hitched. Level 26? That was incredibly high. He remembered Grone''s stats ¨C the system had shown Grone as LVL 48.
The Pixel spread its wings ¨C a magnificent display of feathers like a peacock''s, but these feathers shifted and changed color abruptly, almost violently. Grone shouted, his voice sharp and urgent, "Close your eyes and cover your ears!"
Then, the Pixel screamed. A sound that was both beautiful and terrifying, a cacophony of shifting tones that vibrated through the very air.
The sound was deafening, a high-pitched, agonizing wail. Tyler instantly clamped his hands over his ears; the shriek was excruciating. He squeezed his eyes shut. Grone, however, reacted faster, closing his eyes almost instantly before Tyler.
When Grone opened his eyes, the Pixel''s feathers were no longer spread in their dazzling display. Tyler, however, was still reeling. When he finally managed to open his eyes, the world swam before him. He knew he was standing still, yet everything spun and blurred. Grone knew the rapidly shifting colors of the Pixel''s feathers had induced a hypnotic state in Tyler.
Grone, knowing the Pixel would need time to prepare another attack, ran after it. The Pixel swung a wing, and feathers shot out like deadly projectiles aimed at Grone. Grone swung his sword, deflecting the feathers with practiced ease. Then, he did something Tyler didn''t expect.
As Tyler''s vision cleared, a text box appeared above Grone: James Grone used skill: Slash. Grone''s sword moved in a blur. Though the sword didn''t visibly connect, the Pixel''s head was instantly severed. Purple blood sprayed from its neck as it died. Beside the creature''s corpse, another text box appeared: Extract.
Tyler, mentally willing the extraction, saw the text change to **Extracted**. He expected to see some change in the Pixel''s corpse¡ªskin gone, beak removed, claws missing¡ªbut it remained intact.
Grone turned to Tyler. "Kid, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I''m fine," Tyler replied, still slightly dizzy.
"Good. We need to hurry. More monsters will be out now that it''s day," Grone said, his gaze sweeping the forest.
A Level 17 Slime appeared, its form a bizarre contradiction of bouncy roundness and unnerving solidity. Unlike the somewhat solid Level 10 slime Tyler had encountered before, this one was distinctly different. This was a Level 17.
Then, the text appeared: Slime used skill: Bash. The slime launched itself upwards with impossible speed. Tyler barely saw the movement before Grone reacted. A grunt escaped Grone as he swung his sword, a blur of motion. Even though it seemed the sword was inches away from connecting, the attack landed with impossible precision. The slime split cleanly in two, dissolving into blue dust as it died, leaving behind only a round, grey residue where it had been. But within that residue, something small and round remained. Tyler found it strangely interesting. The system text appeared: Slime Core.
Before Grone could react, the Slime Core glowed intensely blue and vanished right before his eyes. Grone stared, surprised. He''d expected the core to remain, allowing him to pick it up. Tyler, however, had instinctively added it to his inventory, a fact Grone was unaware of.
"Hmm, that was strange," Grone mused, "The core seemed weaker than I expected. Perhaps it couldn''t handle my blow." He turned to Tyler. "Anyway, we need to keep moving. I need to take you to the base." He paused, then asked, "Do you remember anything else? Do you know about the Venom Bloom fruits?"
Tyler nodded. "Yes, I actually have some."
Grone observed that Tyler wasn''t carrying anything. A hint of suspicion crossed his face.
Tyler noticed Grone was wearing gloves. He touched his chin, remembering the itchiness and irritation from his first encounter with the Venom Bloom fruits, and their fragility. "Can I have a glove?" he asked.
Grone raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"The Venom Bloom fruits are poisonous and make your skin itchy," Tyler explained. "They''re also very fragile."
Grone''s eyes narrowed. "So you do know about them. How are you going to get them? Is there a Venom Bloom tree nearby?" Without waiting for an answer, he removed a glove and handed it to Tyler.
Tyler received the glove. Then, something astonishing happened. A Venom Bloom fruit materialized in Tyler''s hand, seemingly out of thin air. Grone, eyes wide with shock, he pointed his blade directly at Tyler. Tyler, equally startled, recoiled, dropping the Venom Bloom fruit. It burst on impact, splattering into a spreading pool of purple ooze.
"Who the hell are you?" Grone demanded, his voice tight with suspicion. "You''re a mage-type hunter, aren''t you? And you''ve been lying to me." He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Who are you, really?"
Tyler stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don''t know. When I came into the forest... I found I could... I could put things away. In this... this space. My inventory. I swear, I don''t know how! I don''t know what you''re talking about! I really don''t know!" Panic edged his voice; his eyes darted around, wide with fear and genuine confusion.
Grone studied Tyler, his expression unreadable. "You''re lying," he stated flatly.
Tyler shook his head frantically. "I''m not! I don''t know how I do that! I really don''t!"
Grone continued to scrutinize Tyler, trying to discern whether this was a practiced act or genuine fear and confusion. The intensity of Tyler''s panic was almost convincing.
Grone continued to scrutinize Tyler, trying to discern whether this was a practiced act or genuine fear and confusion. The intensity of Tyler''s panic was almost convincing. "What rank are you?" Grone finally asked, his voice still sharp but a fraction less accusatory.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Rank?" He mumbled, then a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He looked down, muttering to himself, "G... G... G rank..." He looked up at Grone, a mixture of confusion and fear in his eyes. "G rank," he repeated, as if unsure of what it meant.
Grone''s brow furrowed. "A G rank? You''re a G rank?" He looked Tyler up and down, utterly bewildered. "G ranks are babies," he muttered, shaking his head. "It''s impossible for a grown man to be a G-rank. As you grow and train, you level up to F-rank, E-rank, and beyond. G-rank is the lowest rank, for infants." He slowly lowered his sword, a new thought forming in his mind. Perhaps Tyler was simply stupid, or had suffered some kind of memory loss. The possibility that this terrified young man was actually a G-rank hunter was absurd.
Grone stared at Tyler for a long moment, then said, "You must be a mage-type hunter." He sighed, scratching his head. "Have you been hit by a Hex Horn lately, or something similar?"
Tyler nodded. "Yeah," he admitted, "I''ve been chased by Hex Horns a few times. I got hit by one yesterday."
"That explains it," Grone said, "That could cause memory loss or¡ well, something like this."
Tyler bristled. "I don''t have memory loss! Maybe I''m crazy, but this isn''t memory loss!"
Grone considered this, then said, "Okay, what about the Venom Bloom fruits? Can you do that again? Can you make another one appear?"
A system interface appeared in front of Tyler, visible only to him. Several inventory slots were displayed, and one showed a picture of a Venom Bloom fruit with the number "x5" next to it. Beside the fruit icon was a smaller icon depicting a rusty sword¡ªhis own, as Tyler recognized with a jolt of surprise. He could see the system interface, yet Grone seemed completely unaware of it. "I only have five right now," Tyler said, "I can give you those."
"Excellent," Grone said. "I only need four for my quest. Give them to me quickly."
Tyler mentally selected four Venom Bloom fruits. One by one, they materialized in his hand. Grone opened a small pouch, and Tyler carefully placed the fruits inside.
"Okay, it''s time to move," Grone said. "We''re close to the base. We just need to jump the river."
A flicker of surprise and excitement crossed Tyler''s face. He''d been trying to cross that river for a long time. He said nothing, however, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
As they walked, a wave of profound loneliness washed over Tyler. This world, this reality, felt alien and terrifying. The man beside him, Grone, was a mystery, his skills and knowledge both impressive and unsettling. The very concept of "ranks," the bizarre monsters, the seemingly magical appearance of the Venom Bloom fruits¡ªit all defied his understanding of how the world should work. He remembered childish fantasies of superpowers, of being a hero who battled strange creatures, but those were just that¡ªfantasies. The reality was far more brutal, far more frightening. The thrill of the unknown had long since faded, replaced by a gnawing fear and a desperate longing for something familiar, something safe. He clutched the glove in his pocket, a small comfort in this overwhelming strangeness. The thought of finding another person, another human being, sparked a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn''t alone in this nightmare.
Lost in these turbulent thoughts, Tyler barely registered their arrival at the river until he saw a narrow, rocky path that offered a possible jumping point across the water.
As they crossed the river, Grone urged Tyler to hurry. "Be quick," he warned, "or something from the water might attack." They scrambled across the narrow path, the current rushing beneath their feet.
Once safely on the other side, Tyler, his breath catching in his chest, asked, "Where are we going? Will we meet other people there?"
"We''re going to the base," Grone replied, "The Crossroads Inn. You might find help there." He paused, then asked, "What''s your family name?"
Tyler was momentarily taken aback by the question. "Evans," Tyler said. "My family name is Evans."
Grone considered this for a moment. "That''s strange," he murmured. Tyler asked, "Why?"
"You really are a foreigner," Grone stated. "You do look foreign, and the name... it sounds unusual." He shrugged, dismissing the thought. They continued walking.
Suddenly, Tyler heard a distinctive kyuu sound. He glanced to his left and saw a slime, already mid-air, hurtling towards him.
The system notification appeared before him in an instant: SLIME LEVEL 14. Tyler reacted instantly, dodging the slime''s attack. Grone, surprised by the speed and precision of Tyler''s movement, turned to see what had happened. He drew his sword, ready to defend. A rusty sword materialized in Tyler''s hand¡ªa familiar occurrence to Tyler, though Grone was unaware of this. Before he could react, the system notifications flashed again SLIME USED SKILL: BASH. With a roar, Tyler instinctively swung the rusty sword, striking the slime with surprising power. The slime dissolved into blue dust, leaving behind a core slightly smaller than the one they had encountered earlier. It resembled a glass orb filled with a swirling grey substance¡ªliquid, perhaps, or fine powder. The glass itself was remarkably clear, reflecting the surrounding area. Grone exclaimed, "Whoa!" Then, to his astonishment, the core vanished in to Tyler''s inventory.
"So it was you," Grone said, his voice a low whistle. "You''re the one who made the last core disappear. Where do you keep these things?"
"In my inventory," Tyler replied.
Grone''s eyebrows shot up. "Inventory?" he echoed, the word clearly familiar.
Tyler asked, "Can you see anything?"
Grone, still scanned their surroundings and frowned. "No. Is there a monster nearby?"
Tyler shook his head. "No. I''m talking about this," he said, pointing directly at the shimmering blue rectangle of his system interface. The display, with its neatly organized stats and level information, was clearly visible to him, but completely invisible to Grone.
Grone stared at the empty air where Tyler was pointing, utterly bewildered. "What? What do you mean, ''this''?"
Tyler explained about his stats, the numbers, the level-up. It was then that Grone began to suspect Tyler possessed a skill, perhaps something akin to "Uncover," allowing him to perceive information hidden from others.
Grone hesitated, then blurted out, "Can you... see my level?" A mixture of apprehension and morbid curiosity warred on his face.
Tyler nodded, a reluctant confirmation. He hadn''t wanted to reveal this information so readily, until he was certain this strange world and its systems were real. "Yes," he said. "You''re level 48."
Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He knew his level, of course, but the fact that Tyler knew it was a revelation. The casual way Tyler stated it, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, only amplified his astonishment. "So you know my name?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice, now tinged with a dawning understanding.
"Yes," Tyler replied. "Your name is James Grone. I can see it clearly on the panel."
"Huh...," Grone said, a slow sign escaping mouth. "I see. You have the Uncover skill."
Tyler was surprised. "Uncover?" He frowned, searching his memory. He recalled seeing skills on the panel earlier, before he''d met Grone. Weapon Craft and Armor Craft were listed clearly. There was no mention of Uncover. He also had Primal Subjugation, a skill the system had described as a one-time use ability, which he hadn''t yet activated. But Uncover? He had no memory of that skill at all.
"What is Uncover?" Tyler asked.
"It''s a skill that lets you see other people''s levels, and you can even learn about their skills before they''re activated," Grone explained.
Tyler considered this. Grone might actually be telling the truth. He didn''t have Uncover listed, but perhaps the system hadn''t revealed it yet. "We''re wasting time," Grone said, breaking the silence. "We really need to get to the base."
As they walked, Grone felt a wave of relief wash over him; they were close. That feeling was short-lived, however. Seven slimes erupted from the undergrowth, a surprisingly varied group in terms of size and coloration. The largest, a level 27 slime, was significantly larger than the others¡ªthough even it was only about the size of a large trash bag. Its mostly round form, less amorphous than Tyler might have expected, was a deep, rich blue. Surrounding the behemoth were its smaller brethren: a level 14 slime, almost translucent and faintly shimmering blue; a level 6, a duller, rounder blue blob; a slightly bigger, level 8 slime, a more defined, almost spherical blue; two level 4 slimes; and finally, a level 16 slime, a vibrant, almost electric blue, and noticeably more round and solid-looking than the lower-level slimes, roughly the size of a basketball. They surrounded Tyler and Grone, a surprisingly well-defined, blue gelatinous barricade of varying threat levels. A cold dread washed over Tyler; this was far from the leisurely stroll he''d anticipated.
Tyler still held his rusty sword, the blade faintly stained with the purplish residue of the Venom Bloom juice he''d applied. The blunt edge couldn''t slice, but the poison wouldn''t need to penetrate to be effective. He felt a surge of renewed strength from his recent level-up, even though he was only level 3. He gripped the sword tighter as the slimes began their charge."I''ll take this one," Grone said, his eyes fixed on the largest, level 27 slime. He gestured towards the remaining six with a curt nod towards Tyler. "You take the rest."
Tyler''s jaw dropped slightly. He hadn''t anticipated that division of labor. He''d barely considered facing more than three slimes at once, and now he was staring down six, including a level 16 ¨C a significant jump in difficulty. A nervous laugh caught in his throat; the situation was absurd. He gripped his sword, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, as he watched Grone meet the level 27 slime''s charge. The impact was brutal; Grone''s feet skidded back, his body jarring from the force of the blow as the slime''s mass slammed into his chest.
Distracted by Grone''s struggle with the level 27 slime, Tyler failed to notice the level 16 slime until it was too late. With a sudden burst of speed, it slammed its body into his abdomen. The air whooshed from his lungs as he tumbled backward, landing hard on the ground. He rolled, scrambling to regain his footing and snatch up his rusty blade. The system notification appeared: Slime used skill: Bash.
Groaning, Tyler muttered, "A little too late for the warning, don''t you think?"
Tyler rushed the level 16 slime. It launched itself at him, and he barely managed to dodge the attack, stumbling slightly as he avoided the worst of the impact. He swung his rusty sword wildly, connecting with a level 4 slime, instantly reducing it to blue dust¡ªno core remained. Another wild swing dispatched a second level 4 slime in the same manner. But before he could react, the level 16 slime struck him in the ribs, a searing pain that threatened to fracture the bones. He fell to his side, rolling to absorb the impact, then pushed himself up, his knee hitting the ground as he braced himself, his sword held ready.
As Tyler braced himself, sword in hand, he saw Grone locked in a brutal struggle. Grone hammered blow after blow into the level 27 slime, his sword ringing against the surprisingly resilient creature. With each hit, the slime recoiled slightly, its form rippling like disturbed water, before settling back into its monstrous shape. It wasn''t standing still; it was clearly being pushed back by the force of Grone''s attacks, but it refused to yield, its resilience unnerving. Grone''s face was strained, sweat beading on his forehead, each swing a testament to his raw strength and determination. Then, amidst the chaos of the fight, Tyler witnessed something astonishing. The level 14 slime leaped onto the level 6 slime. They merged, their forms blending seamlessly into a single, larger, pulsating blue mass. A system notification appeared: Level 20 Slime. Tyler''s eyes widened in disbelief. The sheer unexpectedness of the event, coupled with the intensity of Grone''s ongoing battle, sent a fresh wave of icy dread through him.
Chapter 9: A Hunters Beginning
The moment the slimes merged, a system notification popped up beside the newly formed level 20 slime: Slime activated skill: Bash. Tyler''s eyes widened. He remembered Grone''s explanation of the Uncover skill ¨C the ability to see enemy skills before activation. This could be a significant advantage. He rolled to his left as the level 20 slime launched itself forward, a blur of blue. The attack missed, the slime impacting the tree behind Tyler with a sickening thud. The force of the blow caused the tree to tremble violently, its branches swaying wildly as if on the verge of snapping, but it held firm. Tyler stared, momentarily stunned by the sheer power of the attack. He realized, with a jolt of understanding, just how impressive the Uncover skill truly was. He remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the level 20 slime, his mind racing to process the implications.
Three identical system notifications flashed simultaneously: Slime used skill: Bash. Tyler realized with a jolt that the level 8, level 16, and level 20 slimes had all activated the skill at once. He had nowhere to dodge. He stood for a moment, paralyzed by the converging threat, before crouching low, shielding his head. The three slimes launched themselves at him, but in a bizarre twist of fate, they collided mid-air. A small, almost comical thwump echoed as the slimes bumped into each other, recoiling in apparent pain and falling to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, Tyler sprang to his feet, rushing towards the stunned level 8 slime and striking it with all his might.
He swung his sword, connecting with the level 8 slime. The purplish Venom Bloom juice splattered across the slime''s surface. Then, something bizarre happened. The slime began to bubble ominously from within, its surface distorting and rippling. A small, almost comical KYUU sound escaped it before it exploded in a shower of blue goo. Grone, momentarily distracted, watched in surprise as the blue slime splashed across the ground. He quickly turned his attention back to the battle, only to find the level 27 slime charging at him once more.
Grone continued his relentless assault, his sword ringing against the resilient slime. " This thing must be so tough because it''s absorbed a ton of other slimes, he thought, the rhythm of his swings a counterpoint to the pounding in his chest. "Absorbing slimes increases their durability¡ This slime must have started tiny to have this much durability after absorbing so many others." He grunted with exertion, each swing a testament to his determination. Then, he channeled his energy, activating the skill: Slash. The enhanced blow landed with a resounding thwamb, but the slime merely bounced back, its form rippling but unbroken.
Tyler''s hand delved into his pocket, his fingers carefully extracting a familiar object. He knew the Venom Bloom juice coating it would cause an irritating itch if he wasn''t careful. With deliberate slowness, he slipped the glove onto his hand, his movements precise and controlled. He retrieved his sword, the cold metal a comfort against his palm, and pointed it at the level 16 slime, a silent promise of retribution. The level 20 slime, a monstrous wave of blue, launched itself at him. This time, there was no telltale system notification; no skill activation. Tyler knew, instinctively, that this was his chance. He braced himself, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the oncoming mass. The impact slammed into his chest, a crushing force that sent him sprawling to the ground. He held on, his grip tenacious, as the slime landed atop him. Then, a strange thing happened. The slime began to bubble, its surface rippling like disturbed water, a low, guttural gurgle emanating from its depths. As the slime exploded in a shower of blue goo, a glowing blue slime core remained on his chest where the slime had been. Only then did the reason for his careful glove application become clear: the glove was coated with Venom Bloom juice. The core, still glowing faintly, was instantly added to his inventory.
A sudden thought struck Tyler: his inventory was nearly full, wasn''t it? He quickly dismissed the concern; Grone needed help, and there was no time for inventory management. He pushed himself to his feet, bracing for the next attack. The system notification flashed: Slime used skill: Bash. This time, it was the level 16 slime, a smaller but still formidable opponent, launching itself at him with surprising speed. The air vibrated with the force of its approach. Instead of dodging, Tyler channeled his adrenaline, swinging his rusty sword with all his might. It connected with the slime''s gelatinous body, a sickening thwamb echoing through the forest. But this time, the impact was different. The force of the blow, amplified by the desperate swing, was too much for the already weakened blade. It shattered, the rusty metal disintegrating into a shower of sparks and fragments, leaving only the broken hilt in Tyler''s hand. The level 16 slime, momentarily stunned, began to bubble and convulse violently, its form writhing as if in agony. A strange sound, a high-pitched KYUU, escaped its quivering mass¡ªa sound almost comical in its contrast to the slime''s violent struggle.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The level 16 slime, convulsing violently after the KYUU sound, suddenly exploded into a shower of blue goo, spreading across the forest floor. Tyler scrambled to his feet, momentarily blinded by the splattering slime. Then he saw it¡ªsomething astonishing. Grone stepped forward, his sword held straight, and with a precise, controlled movement, he touched the level 27 slime with the tip of his blade. The strike did not have that much in it; it was almost as if it was a mere poke. Yet, the effect was immediate and dramatic. The slime''s surface rippled violently, as if reacting to an unseen force, its form distorting and bubbling in a manner eerily similar to the effect of the Venom Bloom juice. Then, with a final, shuddering burst, the slime exploded. As the blue goo rained down, a notification popped up above Grone''s head: Level Up: James Grone - Level 49.
A notification shimmered into existence before Tyler''s eyes: Level Up:Level 4.
All his stats increased by 2 points.
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 4
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 37/37 MP: 33/33
STR: 17 AGI: 15 DEF: 39
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
He was surprised; it had been a while since his last level-up. Then, another notification, less welcome this time: Due to not having the Goddess''s blessing, your XP will be cut by 25%. Tyler let out an annoyed sigh. This was the third or fourth time he''d seen this message. "Yeah, I know," he muttered, already heading towards Grone. As he walked, another notification appeared, this one far more pleasant: Achievement Unlocked: A Hunter''s Beginning: You have slain up to 10 monsters! Strength +5.
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 4
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 37/37 MP: 33/33
STR: 22 AGI: 15 DEF: 39
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
A flicker of a smile touched Tyler''s lips at the achievement notification, quickly masked by the grim reality of the situation. He couldn''t afford to celebrate; Grone needed his help. He reached Grone, who looked exhausted, his breathing ragged. "That was one tough slime," Grone said, wiping sweat from his brow. "It must have absorbed a lot of others to have that much durability."
Tyler nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Slimes can actually absorb each other?"
Grone nodded. "Only larger slimes can absorb smaller ones. A level 6 can absorb a level 4, and so on. It''s how they get so powerful."
Grone turned to Tyler, concern etched on his face. "Are you alright? You looked pretty beat up back there, battling those slimes." He paused, his gaze lingering on Tyler. The wounds that had marred Tyler''s body during the earlier fight had vanished. Tyler looked remarkably unscathed. *This kid¡ he really might be a mage-type hunter,* Grone thought, a wave of surprise washing over him.
Tyler simply nodded, his expression serious. "I''m fine," he said, his voice low and steady. "Actually, I leveled up. I''m level four now."
Grone''s expression hardened. He shook his head, annoyance evident in his tone. "Level four? You can''t be level four."
"I am¡ª" Tyler began, but Grone cut him off, his annoyance growing. "Listen, kid. Babies are G-Rank. You should be past level 10 by now. Level four? That''s practically a miner''s level! You level up as you grow up, needless of training. But once you hit eighteen, the automatic leveling stops. Looking at how you handled those slimes¡ªthe way you moved, the way you fought¡ªI''d expect you to be at least level 15 or 19, not four! It''s impossible." Tyler stared at Grone, utterly bewildered.
Wait, every single person has a level?" Tyler asked, his voice barely a whisper, a tremor of disbelief shaking his words. The revelation hung heavy in the air between them, a cold weight settling on his chest. He had hoped, foolishly perhaps, to meet someone¡ *normal*. Someone untouched by this system of levels and skills, someone who could tell him to snap out of it, assure him that the grotesque things he''d seen weren''t real, that this strange, unsettling world wasn''t actually the way things were. The thought deflated him, leaving him feeling small and vulnerable. Grone sighed, the sound like the rustling of dry leaves, and sheathed his sword, the click of the scabbard a sharp sound in the sudden silence. "I forgot you got brain problems," Grone muttered, his voice rough as granite. The words hung between them, sharp and unkind. Tyler remained silent, lost in a swirling vortex of confusion and despair. "We have to move," Grone said, his voice low, the words carrying a sense of finality. Tyler followed, his steps hesitant at first, then quickening as he matched Grone''s pace.
Tyler watched as Grone disappeared into a dense thicket of bushes, a tangled mass of green and brown that seemed to swallow him whole. The leaves, thick and interwoven, muffled the sound of his passage. Hesitantly, Tyler followed, pushing aside branches that scratched at his skin. The air grew cooler, damper, as he squeezed through the dense foliage. Then, abruptly, he emerged into a small clearing. The world opened up before him¡ªa vast expanse of rolling grassland stretching to the horizon, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. A gentle breeze stirred the tall grasses, carrying with it the scent of earth and wildflowers. Relief washed over him, a wave of calm in the midst of the turmoil he''d been experiencing. For a moment, the only sounds were the whisper of the wind and the beating of his own heart. Then, as if summoned by Grone''s words, "We''re here," Grone announced, the inn materialized before them¡ªa quaint building of weathered wood and stone, seemingly rising from the very earth itself. It appeared as suddenly and unexpectedly as a mirage in the desert. As they approached, Tyler saw that thick, gnarled logs, ancient and impossibly large, encircled the inn. They were arranged in a rough circle, their surfaces worn smooth by time and weather.
Chapter 10: Whispers Of Home
Tyler noticed a break in the encircling logs, a gap that resembled a crudely fashioned gate. He paused, studying it. Walking beside Grone, he stole a glance at the older hunter. Grone''s usual grim expression was softened by the afternoon light. "Grone," Tyler asked, his voice hesitant, "did you know you recently leveled up?"
Grone stopped, a surprised look flickering across his face. He hadn''t noticed. The information seemed to take a moment to register, a slight furrow in his brow deepening before relaxing. Tyler, in turn, was surprised by Grone''s surprise. He''d assumed that leveling up was something everyone was immediately aware of.
A slow smile spread across Grone''s face, a rare and almost unsettling sight. Relief, perhaps even a touch of elation, softened his features. He muttered something under his breath, a quiet expression of satisfaction. "One more level," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. The weight of his usual grim demeanor seemed to lift slightly, replaced by a quiet sense of accomplishment.
"Grone," Tyler began, his curiosity piqued, "do people not know what level they''ve reached when they level up?"
Grone considered this for a moment, a thoughtful expression replacing his usual grim countenance. "No," he finally replied. "Most don''t. It''s not a sudden, dramatic change. It''s more of a¡ feeling. A subtle shift. You might feel stronger, notice a new skill emerging, sense a slight increase in your power. But it''s not a clear, definitive ''Aha! I''ve leveled up!'' moment. That''s only if you have a skill like yours, Tyler. The Uncover skill. That''s how you know for sure."
"Oh," Tyler said, "So where do you check your level then?"
Grone''s expression remained unchanged, his usual grim demeanor giving little away. "Every hunter base has a rank assessment center," he said, his voice low and even. "Sure, there are larger, official centers in towns and cities, but each hunter base also has a smaller, more convenient one."
"Oh, okay," Tyler said, as they passed through the gap in the logs. He found himself in a small clearing, a collection of tents and small, roughly-hewn houses clustered around a larger, more substantial building. The scene was a curious blend of old and new. The architecture felt ancient, reminiscent of something from a historical movie¡ªa simpler time, yet somehow not quite. It was a strange juxtaposition, a blend of rustic charm and subtle modern conveniences. He couldn''t quite place it. There were no electric bulbs, yet he saw several lanterns hanging from posts, currently unlit in the bright daylight. The whole scene was perplexing, a curious mix of eras that left him feeling disoriented.
Then it happened¡ªsomething he''d dreaded, something he''d known was inevitable. As people strolled past, their everyday movements somehow amplified by the strangeness of the place, Tyler''s worst fears were realized. He saw them: hunters, clad in leather armor, swords sheathed at their hips, daggers tucked into belts, some carrying packs and luggage, all moving with a purpose that seemed both mundane and extraordinary. And then, the numbers appeared. Levels, floating like ghostly apparitions above their heads. Howard Tilton, Level 48. Ben Holland, Level 64. The names and numbers danced before his eyes, a constant, unsettling reminder of the system that governed their world, a system he was only just beginning to understand. The numbers seemed to multiply, a cascade of levels and names, a visual representation of the power and skill that surrounded him. It was exactly what he''d feared, and yet, somehow, it was even more unsettling than he''d imagined.
He tried to swallow, a sudden wave of thirst washing over him. He remembered the river, the water he''d drunk just hours ago. Now, the memory of its taste was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth; foul, almost sickening. The image of the creature flashed before his eyes¡ªthe horrifying scene by the riverbank, the dog, the swift, brutal attack. The unsettling memory lingered, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beneath the surface of this strange world. But the thirst had been overwhelming, and he''d needed the water.
Grone''s voice cut through his thoughts. "You really don''t remember anything, do you?" he said, his tone a mixture of concern and something else¡ curiosity? "I wonder where you''re from." He gestured with a calloused hand towards a massive brown tent, easily the largest structure in the clearing. It dominated the space, a behemoth of canvas and rope, its size almost overwhelming.
They walked towards the large tent. Inside, a counter dominated the space, behind which several women bustled about, attending to hunters who approached with various items¡ªhunks of strange materials, husks of unknown creatures, and other assorted goods. Hunters milled about, some clearly taking on new quests, others returning from completed ones. The scene felt strangely familiar, like a bustling marketplace or a busy office, yet utterly unlike anything Tyler had ever experienced. The air hummed with a strange energy, a blend of anticipation and exhaustion.
A groan escaped Tyler''s lips, a sound of bewilderment. He heard another groan, this one sharper, closer. He turned to see a woman with fiery red hair, her face etched with concern, addressing Grone. "Grone," she said, her voice tight with urgency, "did you find the Venom Bloom fruit?"
"Yes," Grone replied, reaching into his bag. He carefully removed three Venom Bloom fruits, placing them gently on the counter. His gloved fingers brushed against something else within the bag¡ªa soft, pulpy mass. He pulled it out, revealing a squashed, ruined Venom Bloom fruit. A frown creased his brow. He was supposed to have four.
"I¡ only have three," Grone said to Serena, his voice apologetic.
Then, a fourth Venom Bloom fruit materialized in Tyler''s hand, surprising both Grone and Serena. A ripple of surprised murmurs went through the nearby hunters.
"You can have this one," Tyler said, producing a fourth Venom Bloom fruit. He was still wearing Grone''s glove; he carefully placed the fruit on the counter beside the others. Serena''s surprise was evident. "Are you a new hunter?" she asked, her gaze assessing him. "I don''t recognize your face. Where did you come from?"
Tyler hesitated, unsure how to answer.
Grone stepped forward. "He''s a foreigner," Grone explained. "Doesn''t remember where he''s from. I found him in the woods. And," he added, a hint of pride in his voice, "he''s a mage-type hunter."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
A murmur of recognition rippled through the nearby hunters. It was a known fact amongst them that mage-type hunters were highly skilled. Then, another voice cut through the low hum of conversation. "Gary?"
Gary approached with a confident swagger, a cocky smirk on his face. He enveloped Tyler in a surprisingly strong hug, clapping him on the back with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of him. "Grone, old man, you''re back!" Gary boomed, his voice echoing through the tent. "And who''s this? Your grandchild?" He squeezed Tyler''s shoulder with almost aggressive familiarity.
Tyler, increasingly annoyed by this unexpected display of affection from a stranger, started to question his own sanity. Was Grone really *that* old to have a grandchild?
Grone, his voice tight with irritation, pulled away from Gary. "He''s not my grandchild," he said, his tone sharp. "And how could I possibly have a grandchild at my age? I''m not that old!"
"Who knows what kids are up to these days," Gary chuckled.
Tyler ignored him. Serena, reaching across the counter, announced, "You''ve completed your quest. Four Venom Bloom fruits. I''ll take them now." She donned a pair of gloves before carefully collecting the fruits, wrapping them in a cloth, and placing them under the counter. Then, she retrieved a pouch from beneath the counter and handed it to Grone. Grone immediately put the pouch in his pocket. Tyler was surprised; he hadn''t noticed any coins before, and the whole exchange happened so quickly. He turned his attention back to Gary, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in his eyes.
Gary let out a boisterous laugh. "Wow, to think the old man actually finished a quest! It''s been a while," he teased, his tone dripping with playful mockery. He nudged Grone playfully. "Probably had a little help from this little boy here," he added, gesturing towards Tyler with a grin.
Tyler bristled at the "little boy" comment. Gary didn''t look that much older than him; the comment felt condescending. He was tempted to retort, but he held back. This was a new world, filled with people who possessed skills and levels he didn''t understand. Making a bad impression here could have unforeseen consequences. He decided discretion was the better part of valor.
Grone, though outwardly calm, felt a prickle of annoyance at Gary''s teasing. It was true; he wouldn''t have completed the quest without Tyler''s help. But the successful completion meant he was now only one level away from reaching C-rank. Level 50 held the promise of a new skill awakening, a prospect that excited him. He''d even made a side deal with Serena for a better payout, a secret he intended to keep. This C-rank quest, tackled as a D-rank hunter, was a significant accomplishment. He clapped Tyler on the shoulder, a gesture more forceful than intended. "Tyler, we need to go."
Gary''s jovial demeanor shifted, replaced by a simmering anger. "Hey! Why you always ignoring me, Grone?" he demanded, his voice sharper now. As Tyler turned to leave, Gary''s hand shot out, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket from behind. "Don''t you dare leave!"
Tyler reacted instantly, slapping Gary''s hand away with surprising force. "Let go of me," he said, his voice low and firm.
Gary recoiled, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Oh," he said, a slow grin spreading across his features. "Tough one, huh? No wonder you finished that quest." He released Tyler, letting out a laugh that held a hint of unease. His eyes darted around; it was clear he''d noticed other hunters gathering nearby, their attention drawn by the commotion. Gary wasn''t universally liked; while some found him amusing, many others found him irritating and avoided him whenever possible.
Tyler wondered where Grone was taking him. This place was entirely new, and Grone was the only person he''d spoken to at any length. He seemed alright, at least Tyler hoped so. But eventually, he''d have to venture out on his own. The thought filled him with a sense of unease; he had no idea what his next step should be, or even what he was supposed to *do* in this strange world. He followed Grone, his gaze scanning the surroundings. Then he saw it: a building with a peculiar sign¡ªa goose carrying a fork and knife. A restaurant, apparently.
Grone announced, "We need to get some food." He pushed open the door to the restaurant, and Tyler stepped inside. The interior was as he''d expected: wooden floors, simple wooden tables, and people eating. But the food¡ was it food? It looked like chicken, beef, and other meats he recognized, yet somehow different. The aroma, however, was undeniable¡ªrich and savory. His stomach rumbled; he hadn''t eaten since arriving in this strange world, and a wave of intense hunger washed over him. He wanted to urge Grone to hurry, but he held back, following Grone as he approached an empty table.
Grone sat down and raised a hand to signal for service. A person approached, and Grone placed their order. Tyler barely registered what Grone said; the moment he sat, his mind drifted. He thought of Mike. What was Mike doing right now? Eating? At work? What *was* Mike''s new job, anyway? Something health-related, he vaguely recalled. Mike had taken a course in health and something¡ He couldn''t quite remember the details; he hadn''t asked Mike for specifics.
The thud of plates landing on the table jolted Tyler from his reverie. Before him sat a steaming bowl of soup, a plate piled high with what looked like fried chicken¡ªthough somehow subtly different¡ªand another plate containing boiled meat and a side of what appeared to be greens or salad. It was unlike any food he''d ever seen, yet it smelled incredible. Hesitation flickered across his face, but hunger quickly won. He was eating this. He had no choice; it looked and smelled too delicious to pass up. He might not recognize the exact source of the meat, but his stomach was already growling in anticipation. He was going to eat it all.
Beside the plates sat a spoon and a fork. "Dig in," Grone said, his voice gruff but not unkind. Tyler watched as Grone expertly speared a chunk of the boiled meat from the soup with his fork, the motion practiced and efficient. Grone ate with an almost unnervingly calm demeanor; it was impossible to tell from his expression whether he found the food delicious or merely tolerable. Grone''s face was usually an enigma, a mask of quiet intensity that rarely betrayed his emotions. Tyler hesitated only a moment longer before following suit. He speared a tender piece of the meat from the soup and ate it. The flavor was an explosion¡ªtender, juicy, melting on his tongue. It was both familiar and alien; a taste that somehow evoked both chicken and cow, yet was utterly unlike either. The texture was exquisite, almost ethereal. He couldn''t stop chewing, savoring the complex, almost otherworldly taste. It felt like this sensation could last forever, but the insistent gnawing of his hunger spurred him on. He kept stabbing and eating, forkful after forkful, until his hunger began to subside.
He then tackled the salad, but the experience was underwhelming. The greens were intensely sour, far more so than sweet or palatable, leaving a rather unpleasant taste in his mouth. He set his fork down with a sigh, reaching for the water. The water was refreshing, cool and clean, though at room temperature. At least he was full. He glanced at Grone, who was casually picking his teeth with a toothpick¡ªwhere had *that* come from?¡ªhis expression as inscrutable as ever.
Grone leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Nothing like a great slither, am I right?"
Tyler''s eyes widened. Did he just hear Grone correctly? The image of a slither¡ªa creature he remembered as resembling a snake, but lacking eyes, oddly wide yet short, and moving in a way that was utterly repulsive¡ªflashed through his mind. Tyler had an intense aversion to anything that moved like a snake, an octopus, or a worm¡ªanything tentacle-like. And he''d just *eaten* one?
He stared at Grone, who suddenly burst into laughter¡ªa genuine, hearty laugh that Tyler had never witnessed before. The sound was unexpected and surprisingly pleasant. When Grone finally composed himself, he said, "I''m joking, kid. So, you do know what a slither is?"
Tyler sighed in relief. "Yeah," he said, "I faced a slither once. It wasn''t fun. I thought I was going to die."
Grone leaned forward, his expression serious. "Do you remember anything before that? Before you came to the forest?"
Tyler shook his head. "Like I said, I was in my room¡ a place very different from here. Then, suddenly, I was in the forest."
Grone sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He''d hoped for a different answer this time, some clue to Tyler''s origins. "I can''t help you anymore then," he said, his tone flat.
A fresh wave of unease washed over Tyler. "What do you mean?" Tyler asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Grone shrugged. "Well, I don''t really know you, and I have to go. I need to get to another hunter''s base to officially reach C-rank, and I have some¡ business to attend to with this money." He paused, then added, with a slight hesitation, "I need to get back to my village. Check on my family."
Tyler stared at him, surprised. He hadn''t considered that Grone might have a family. "Oh," he said, the word barely a breath. "You have a family?"
"Yeah," Grone said, a softer expression briefly touching his features. "My wife, Lisa, and my daughter, Heather. She''s three. I became a hunter to provide for them, you see." He abruptly cut off any further questions by rising from the table and heading towards the restaurant counter. He reached into the pouch and pulled out two gold coins. They gleamed in the light, catching Tyler''s eye. He hadn''t noticed them before; the gold was bright and lustrous.
The person behind the counter accepted the coins with a smile, muttering something that sounded like Grone''s name, though Tyler couldn''t be sure. Grone returned to the table, sighing. "A few more hours with you wouldn''t hurt," he said to Tyler. "We should go to an inn. I need to drop off some things¡" He paused, a thought occurring to him. "Actually," he said, a glint in his eye, "let''s head to the ranking center first. Let''s see what rank you actually are."
Chapter 11: The Weakest Man Alive
Grone pushed open the restaurant door, stepping out into the bustling street. Tyler followed close behind, his eyes darting around, taking in the other hunters. His system, ever vigilant, displayed their levels as text boxes above their heads. He did a double-take at one familiar hunter¡ªa level 62. It was Gary. Gary was a "level 62"? The surprise was fleeting, however, as Grone abruptly changed direction, gesturing towards a building constructed of brown bricks. The building was a two-floor structure, unremarkable except for the inscription above the door. Tyler stared at it, surprised. The words "Rank Assessment Building" were clearly visible, yet they weren''t written in any language he recognized. They were more like stylized scribbles, a completely alien script. And yet, he understood them perfectly. He muttered to himself, "Is this... the Rank Assessment Building?" Grone, beside him, nodded. "Yes," he said, "We should go in."
The door creaked open under Grone''s hand, revealing the interior of the building. A wave of nervousness washed over Tyler. He wanted to know his rank¡ªhe knew his rank; it was G-rank, wasn''t it? But Grone insisted he was wrong, that only babies were at that rank. Would Grone finally accept the truth? Or was Grone right, and the implications of that were¡ unsettling. Would a G rank hunter truly be as as weak as babie? Or were babies in this world abnormally strong? With a shared glance, Grone and Tyler stepped inside.
The floor inside was wood, much like the restaurant they''d just left¡ªnot squeaky clean or polished, but serviceable. Hunters sat at tables lined up in rows to either side of the room, seemingly filling out forms or signing papers. Tyler followed Grone, who approached a counter where a man stood. Grone greeted him with a casual, "Hey, Charles," and the man replied, "Grone, how have you been?"
"Are you here to check your rank again?" Charles asked Grone. Grone replied, "Yeah, kind of. I''m actually here to check mine and this¡ boy''s." He gestured towards Tyler, who felt a prickle of annoyance. "Boy"? He was twenty-one years old! He was a man, not some child. Charles seemed to notice Tyler for the first time. "Oh," he said, "Is he some kind of new hunter? Because apply here, he''ll have to go to the rank assessment center in Town."
"I know, I''m not trying to get him registered as a new hunter here. He''ll have to go to the central office for that. I just want to check his rank, and mine as well," Grone explained. Charles said, "All right. This way." As they walked towards the stairs, Charles paused, smiling back over his shoulder as he started to climb. "You''ve actually been at level 48 for a week now, Grone. Has your level gone up?"
"I don''t know, that''s why I''m here to check," Grone said, starting up the stairs. Charles called after him, "They say that if you''re nearing C-rank, you can really feel it when you level up. Most hunters above C-rank say they can tell. You just have to keep track." Grone replied, "So I''ve heard." Tyler remained silent, following the two men up the stairs to a door on the left. Opening the door, they found a man seated behind a large brown desk piled high with files. The man behind the desk¡ªwearing glasses, with short brown hair, and a pipe clenched between his teeth¡ªlooked up as they entered. Charles announced, "Sir, we have some hunters here to check their ranks." The man grunted, "Let them in." Grone and Tyler stepped fully into the room. The man''s expression shifted as he recognized Grone. "Oh, it''s you," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm. His eyes, however, narrowed with curiosity as he regarded Tyler, a puff of pipe smoke escaping his lips. He clearly wondered who this newcomer was.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
"Who is this new boy with you? Is he a new hunter?" the man asked. Grone replied, "No, he''s not really a hunter." The man raised an eyebrow. "So what''s he doing all the way out here? Is he one of those supply runners?" Grone, wanting to avoid a lengthy explanation, simply agreed, "Yes, one of them." Tyler''s heart skipped a beat. A supply runner? He had no idea what Grone was talking about; what supplies? A wave of unease washed over him.
"Well, let''s not waste any time. Let''s check both your ranks," the man said, gesturing towards a space beside his desk. "Charles, give them some room." Charles obligingly stepped aside, allowing Grone and Tyler to approach. The man pushed his chair back with a grunt, stretching towards a wall. Tyler gasped¡ªon the wall was a small, glass-like board, unlike anything he''d ever seen.
The glass was unlike anything Tyler had ever seen. Black, yes, but the blackness seemed to shift and writhe, like a hole opening into some unseen depth, yet somehow remaining a solid surface. It wasn''t the flat, inert black of a switched-off screen; it felt¡ different. Beneath the glass, half-embedded in the wall, was a sphere, an orb of some kind. Grone stepped forward, removed his glove, and placed his hand on the orb. As Grone''s hand rested on the orb, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The black glass reacted instantly. A blue mist coalesced within its depths, swirling and condensing until it solidified into letters: LV-49. Beneath the level indicator, another designation appeared: D+. Tyler stared, shocked. So this was how ranks were displayed in this world. A simple, yet strangely unsettling, visual representation.
"Ha," the man said, tapping his chin. "You''ve actually leveled up." Grone smiled, withdrawing his hand. Charles commented, "He leveled up! It''s been a while. But you''re still at least one level away from that C-rank dream of yours." Grone said, "Yeah." He turned to Tyler. "Your turn." Tyler looked apprehensive, approaching the orb hesitantly. He asked, "What am I supposed to do?" The man tilted his head, a hint of confusion in his expression. "This¡ supplier¡ is asking something everyone should know?"
"What do you mean?" the man asked, clearly perplexed by Tyler''s question. "Simply put your hand on the orb and pour your mana into it," Grone explained, stepping aside. "Then it''ll tell you." Tyler frowned. "Mana? Wait¡" He remembered seeing MP in his system stats, but he''d never understood its purpose. From watching Mike play games, he knew mana was associated with MP and using abilities¡ªit went down when powers were used, but it wasn''t going down when he was using his crafting ability in the forest. He was completely baffled.
Tyler hesitated, then placed his hand on the cool, smooth surface of the black orb. Instantly, his system message appeared: Pouring mana into orb: MP 30/33. His mana count decreased by three points. Then, just as before, a blue mist formed within the orb, obscuring the sphere within. Tyler glanced at Grone, who looked genuinely surprised.
His attention snapped to a dull thud from the wooden floor. He looked up to see the pipe-smoking man; his mouth was agape, the pipe clattering to the floor. Tyler''s gaze shot to the black glass orb. It read LV 4, and beneath that, G-rank. The surprise on the faces of Grone and the others confirmed what he already knew. He was G-rank.
Chapter 12: I Need To Know
Tyler stared at the wall-mounted glass. The display had changed. A minus sign (-) now preceded the "G". Charles exclaimed, "He''s actually a G minus !," his voice laced with surprise. Grone was speechless, his shock evident. Tyler removed his hand from the orb. "I told you I was G-rank," he stated calmly. The man sputtered, his surprise turning to disbelief. "No, that''s impossible."
"Charles," the man said, "when was the last time you cleaned this orb with purified water?" Charles scratched his head. "I think¡ two days ago?" The man groaned. "Damn it, I told you to clean this orb with purified water every day!" Charles mumbled, "I know, we just ran out two days ago." The man adjusted his glasses. "That explains it. This thing must be malfunctioning. Otherwise, I don''t think he''d be registering like that." "Right," Grone agreed. "Wait, but this boy clearly stated he was G-rank, so he knows he is, right?" Charles said. The man shook his head. "But that''s impossible! A grown man can''t be G-rank. He''d be too weak to even stand!" "That''s what I said," Grone added. "Then how does he know he''s G-rank?" Charles asked. Before Tyler could answer, Grone interrupted, "We checked with the other base¡"
Tyler''s heart skipped a beat. This was the second lie he''d heard Grone tell a lie. They hadn''t checked with another base; Grone had explicitly told him about his "uncover" skill. He didn''t understand the reason for the lie and, while he intended to ask Grone about it later, he decided against a confrontation here. He didn''t want to embarrass Grone or arouse suspicion. Grone continued smoothly, "We checked at the other base. We thought something was wrong there as well." The man nodded grimly. "There clearly was something wrong."
"If it''s malfunctioning," Charles said, "does that mean it was malfunctioning when Grone used it too?" The man considered this. "I''ll check myself." He placed his hand on the orb. The display changed: Level 74." Tyler was surprised. The man was actually Level 74, and his rank was C-rank. "It''s working just fine," the man said, dismissing the malfunction theory. "Maybe it''s the output of this boy''s mana. Perhaps he didn''t pour enough into it." Tyler scratched his head. "I don''t really know how to pour mana into things," he admitted. The man sighed in relief. "That explains it. That explains the wrong readings at both bases." He turned to Grone. "You really need to teach the boy how to properly channel mana."
"Yeah," Grone agreed. The man said, "Well then, I''ll have to confirm your rank." He returned to his desk, sifted through the neatly arranged files, and pulled one out. He wrote something on it, then looked at Grone. "You are level 49, correct?" Grone confirmed, "Yes." The man dipped a stamp into a small container of black liquid¡ªnot quite a flask¡ªand stamped the file. The symbol was unusual to Tyler; The stamp depicted concentric circles, and at the very center, a large "H"¡ªbut not quite. It had a single wing extending from its left side, somehow both familiar and alien. It felt like a letter from another language, yet undeniably an "H" to Tyler. The strangeness of it hung in the air, but he remained silent. Finally, he spoke, "What about my rank?"
"You''re supposed to know how to channel your mana first. Otherwise, we can''t really know your rank for sure," the man explained. "Anyways, since we''re all done here, I think it''s best the two of you take your leave." Grone replied, "Of course." The man instructed Charles, "You may show them the exit." Tyler followed Grone and Charles down the stairs. Grone thought to himself, "Tyler really is G-rank. He has the Uncover skill. Why did I think he was lying?" It didn''t make sense.
As they walked, Charles bid goodbye to Grone and Tyler. Emerging from the building, they found a bustling scene of hunters going about their day. Tyler followed Grone, unsure of their destination. He questioned himself, "Why am I following Grone? He saved me in the forest, but I can''t rely on him."
He realized he knew almost nothing about this world, and felt adrift. If he stopped following Grone, who would he rely on? Then a new resolve hardened within him. He was old enough; he couldn''t keep depending on others, not even in this strange new world. He needed to learn everything¡ªthe information, the workings of this place¡ªand from there, figure things out for himself. After all, his family''s words echoed in his mind: Man up and face reality.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Grone suddenly stopped, a smile spreading across his face. He chuckled, then laughed outright. Tyler was taken aback. "You really are G-rank," Grone said, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is literally impossible, but you are. You''re telling the truth; you''re not confused." He leaned closer, his expression serious. "Is it true? Everything you''re saying? You really are from¡ another place?" Tyler nodded, confirming his earlier statements. "Yes, that''s what I''ve been trying to tell you. I was in a different place, almost like a different world."
"Interesting," Grone mused. "Well, I know one thing''s for sure: you''re quite abnormal."
Tyler tilted his head, questioning the statement. "Huh?"
Grone explained, "You''re G-rank, and yet you''re as strong as... close to an E or F. More of an E, actually. You''re more like an E-rank."
"E-rank?" Tyler repeated, surprised.
Grone nodded. "Yes. Anyway, I''m going to take on some more quests. You should probably go to the inn and rest. I''ll be back, and we''ll leave for town tomorrow morning."
"Wait," Tyler said, "why are you helping me?"
Grone looked momentarily confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Tyler explained, "you don''t really know me, yet you''re going to all this trouble. I just want to know why."
Grone studied him for a moment. "Do you not want me to help you?"
Tyler held up his hands defensively. "No, no, it''s just¡ I''m confused."
Grone nodded slowly. "Just don''t think about it too much. I was in a similar situation once¡ well, not exactly like yours, but¡"
"What kind of situation?" Tyler pressed.
"It''s a long story," Grone replied. "Anyway, you need to go. I''ll take you to the inn."
Grone led Tyler back to the inn. Entering, they found a woman at the counter to the left and a man to the right. The woman appeared to be reading a stack of papers, much like a book without a cover. The man greeted Grone, who returned the greeting. Tyler and Grone walked down a hallway, passing two doors before entering a room. Tyler saw a single bed. Grone said, "This is where you''ll be staying tonight. I''ll be back." He started to close the door, then paused, reopening it. "Oh, and here''s some money." He handed Tyler two copper coins.
Tyler received the coins and groaned softly, close to the door. Copper coins? He wasn''t sure what he could even use them for. He examined the symbol stamped on the coin: a cross, almost, but not quite. The cross divided the coin into four quadrants, each containing a small dot. He sighed, then went to sit on the small bed tucked in the corner of the room. It was clearly only big enough for one person. He wondered where he was going to sleep.
He wondered if he''d ever return home, how he''d even manage to escape this place. But first, he needed to understand this world. He lay back on the bed, finding it surprisingly uncomfortable. The blankets felt oddly thin and poorly made, somehow both familiar and strangely cheap at the same time. Resting his head, a new thought took root: he had to find a way back to his own world.
Lost in thought, a strange, dreamlike weariness settled over Tyler, and he drifted into a surprisingly deep sleep. He awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in his bed. The familiar, soft cotton sheets were a welcome contrast to the unsettling memory of his earlier experience. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet landing on the cool, smooth tiles of his bedroom floor. The floral pattern of his wallpaper, the slightly chipped paint on the ceiling¡ªall were comforting and undeniably familiar. He ran a hand over the worn wood of his bedside table, the familiar grain a grounding presence. He was home. He wasn''t in some dimly lit inn; he was back in his own room, safe and sound. The relief was so profound, it almost brought him to his knees.
"Tyler. Tyler." A familiar voice called his name. It was Mike. He turned, and there, standing in his room, was Grone. What? Grone? In his room? Confusion warred with a dawning realization as his eyes fluttered open. He wasn''t home. He wasn''t in his apartment with Mike. He''d been dreaming. Grone was shaking him gently. "Come on. Wake up. I brought some food." Tyler sat up straight, blinking the sleep from his eyes, a wave of disappointment washing over him.
He slowly sat upright, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of two candles flickering in the corners of the small room. The room was starkly empty; just a bed and the candles. The inn was unsettlingly bare, almost unnervingly so. Then he saw Grone holding something wrapped in cloth; a savory aroma wafted towards him, instantly familiar. It was the same food they''d had at the restaurant, wasn''t it? As Grone unwrapped the bundle, revealing three plates piled high with food, Tyler''s mouth began to water.
"Okay, kid, dig in," Grone said, gesturing towards the food. Tyler quickly sat down and began to eat, sharing the meal with Grone. While eating, he stole glances at Grone. He noticed Grone only had one eye; the other socket was marred by a jagged scar that looked almost like two claw marks, or perhaps knife wounds¡ªTyler couldn''t quite tell. He kept staring, until Grone''s one good eye met his. Tyler quickly looked down, resuming his meal. After swallowing a mouthful, he finally asked, "What is this world called?"
"This place¡ªor should I say, this world¡ªis called Aldoria."
Tyler tilted his head, questioning. "Aldoria?"
Grone nodded. "Yes, Aldoria. This entire world, with all its countries and people¡ªit''s all Aldoria." Tyler considered the name. Grone continued, his expression serious. "I guess since you''re technically from another world, I''ll have to tell you everything about this one, shouldn''t I?"
Chapter 13: A Broken Mans Dream
Tyler stared at Grone, intently listening as he described this strange new world. Finally, Grone paused, saying, "Okay, where do I even begin? I suppose we should start with how the world became like this. At first, it wasn''t like this at all. There weren''t any Hunters, levels, or the monsters you see now. It all began about 200 years ago when a demon god appeared and started creating creatures to rule the world and torment humanity. The goddess, creator of humankind, didn''t take kindly to this. A conflict ensued, and both the demon god and the goddess chose champions. The goddess chose a hero, and the demon god chose his own¡ªa being known as the Demon King. When the Demon King and the human hero clashed, the Demon King was defeated."
"But that wasn''t the end of it," Grone continued, his voice low. "The demon god and the goddess had made a deal: whichever champion lost would relinquish their claim to the world. If the hero won, the goddess would rule; if the Demon King won, the demon god would rule. But the demon god broke the agreement. He went on a rampage, appearing on Earth and slaughtering millions. The goddess then sent the hero and his party to confront him. The hero was granted immense power to fight the raging god. Some old tales claim he was the strongest being the goddess had ever created, even stronger than the goddess herself. But that''s all hearsay; I only heard it from old stories... It was two hundred years ago, so who really knows¡"
"So what happened next?" Tyler asked.
"The hero won," Grone replied. "That''s what they say, anyway. But even though the hero won, something else happened. The demon god''s aura spread across the planet, and from that aura, creatures emerged¡ªout of nowhere. These creatures were unlike anything humans had ever seen, incredibly dangerous. Humans couldn''t handle them. The hero, having finished his task, vanished. They say he disappeared after defeating the demon god. The goddess, however, stepped in to help the humans she''d created. She gave humanity magic, a way to control and measure it. That''s how we were able to fight back, that''s where the Hunters came from."
"You see," Grone explained, "from the day the goddess gave humans magic, every child is born with mana. We can measure that mana, and we''ve ranked it¡ªthat''s why everyone in this world has a level and skills. If it weren''t for the demon god, none of this would exist, but it''s necessary for humanity''s survival. We''ve been fighting back against these monsters ever since, but they never seem to end. Every night, it feels like new ones appear¡ªthe same species, over and over. However, we''ve managed to clear some areas. You see those barren places where there are no monsters? Hunters, and especially Hunter Majors, cleared those areas. Hunter Majors possess a powerful skill called Purification Magic."
That magic can be used to cleanse an entire area of monsters, preventing them from ever reappearing," Grone explained. "We call it Holy Magic, and those who wield it are considered very special¡ªsome are even called ''Chosen Ones,'' though I''m not sure why. But the truly special ones are the descendants of the hero," Grone added.
"Descendants?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "Turns out the hero had many wives... or concubines, if you prefer. And his descendants have been born with immense power ever since. Some are even born as C-ranks¡ªcan you believe it?" Grone said calmly.
"C-ranks?" Tyler asked, surprised. "From what you said earlier, babies are born as G-ranks," he added.
"That''s right," Grone confirmed. "Which is why people were so surprised to learn you''re a G-rank. It''s practically impossible for a grown man to be a G-rank. Remember what I said about people automatically leveling up until they reach eighteen? Hypothetically, you should be around E-rank or higher by now. But some people level up more than others, and training from a young age can help. However, after eighteen, leveling up through training alone becomes much harder, unless you undertake extremely rigorous training."
"You also level up by killing monsters," Grone continued. "Being a Hunter is dangerous; you could be killed at any time on a quest. Speaking of quests, humans have found ways to utilize these creatures. Some have valuable scales, hides, and other materials. Some parts can even be used to create magical items. We also use their meat, and sell it. But the most common use is in weapon-making. It''s difficult, but these monster materials make weapons significantly stronger. However, you need a skilled blacksmith or craftsman to create armor and weapons using these materials."
Oh, and you should know that these creatures aren''t the only things you need to be aware of," Grone said. "There are kingdoms in the east that used to worship the demon god and the Demon King. That''s how the Demon King raised such a large army, capable of killing so many humans. Those kingdoms are in the east, though. You''re in the south, so there''s no immediate need to worry."
Tyler''s eyes widened. He felt a prickle of unease despite Grone''s attempt at reassurance. The monsters weren''t the only threat; there were also those who had actively served the demon god¡ªand who knew what other dangers lurked, perhaps even among seemingly ordinary people: bandits, criminals, or worse. He pushed the unsettling thought aside and focused on what Grone would say next.
"So, now that I''ve told you how it all began and how things are now, what else do you need to know? I can''t tell you everything about this world right now¡ªI don''t think you could handle it, and I''m exhausted and want to sleep," Grone said, yawning slightly.
Tyler reached into his pocket, pulling out the two copper coins Grone had given him. "I want to know a bit about the money. How does it work here?"
A small smile appeared on Grone''s weary face. "Ah, of course," he said.
"Okay, so here''s how it works," Grone began. "The copper coins are the lowest denomination¡ªlike the ones I gave you. Then there are silver coins, and finally, gold coins. It''s a simple system: ten copper coins make one silver coin, and ten silver coins make one gold coin."
He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "For example, if an apple costs one copper coin¡ªand it does¡ªhow many apples could you buy with one gold coin? Take a guess."
"One hundred?" Tyler ventured.
"Exactly," Grone confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. Tyler was surprised; gold coins were clearly valuable. "Gold is rare, mostly held by wealthy nobles. And you might have noticed I paid at the restaurant with gold. I''ve been eating there for a while and haven''t paid yet. I''ve built up a bit of a tab, and the owner trusts me."
"I hope that explains it," Grone said, looking tired.
"Yeah, I guess," Tyler replied, his voice uncertain.
Grone frowned, then stood. "Alright, kid, time for me to sleep. I brought some blankets; they''re over in the corner," he said, pointing.
Tyler looked and saw a pile of blankets. It wasn''t cold, but he went over, made a small bed, and covered himself with a blanket. "Goodnight," he mumbled. There was no reply. He looked over at Grone, who was already fast asleep. *That was quick,* he thought, staring at the ceiling. He thought about this strange new world, his heart beating a little faster, but the fear was lessened. He felt more prepared, more informed.
He then began to think about tomorrow, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. This was only his second day in this strange new world, and the disorientation was a physical weight. A wave of homesickness washed over him, sharp and sudden. He pictured his family, the familiar faces blurring into a hazy memory. His mother, his brothers¡ªwould they even notice he was gone? The thought hit him with the force of a physical blow. He¡¯d never been important to them, never truly mattered. He was just¡ there. He hadn''t brought anything to the table, hadn''t contributed anything meaningful to their lives. The familiar bitterness of this truth settled over him, a heavy cloak of despair. This was just another reason he felt so pathetic. He thought of his life before, a life of quiet nothingness¡ª The weight of it all pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating, until finally, exhaustion claimed him, and he fell into a troubled sleep.
Through the slightly warm night, Tyler twisted and turned, even in his sleep. The stars slowly faded as the sun began its ascent, signaling the end of night. Tyler''s eyes fluttered open to the sound of boots and the clink of metal. Grone was moving around, clearly preparing for something. Tyler, still groggy from sleep, couldn''t quite make out what was happening. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groaned, and sat up. "Good morning," he mumbled to Grone.
"Oh, you''re up. That''s good. I told you we''d be heading to town this morning. I''m going to see my family there," Grone said, sheathing his sword.
"Right," Tyler thought, a wave of guilt washing over him. "He has a family. How could I forget? This is happening again, isn''t it? I''m burdening someone. I can barely manage living alone, and now I''m going to town with him to see his family." The memory of Grone''s kindness¡ªthe food, the money¡ªbrought back a flood of memories. He thought of those times back in the apartment with Mike, struggling to pay rent, jobless and desperate, relying on Mike to cover the shortfall more often than not. Even when he did manage to find a low-end job, the meager wages barely covered his share of the rent, let alone the debt he''d accumulated from relying on Mike''s generosity. Those times when he''d barely scraped by, feeling the crushing weight of his own inadequacy.
"Grone," Tyler said, his voice firm and resolved. "I don''t want to be a burden. I want to pay you back. I don''t understand why you''re helping me, a stranger, but I can''t keep accepting your kindness."
"You''ve been helping me since I got here. I really want to pay you back," Tyler said, his voice sincere. "But I don''t know how."
"I know," Grone said, his tone softening slightly. "This is the last thing I''m doing for you. I''m going with you to town so you can try to find a job. After all, as you said, I can''t keep supporting you. I have a family to care for. You''ll need a stable income if you want to return to your world eventually, am I right?"
A stable income. Tyler felt a fresh wave of anxiety. Finding a job was one of his biggest weaknesses. He wasn''t good at many things, but this was among the worst. He lacked what most people had: luck.
"Come on, let''s get moving," Grone said, already heading for the door.
"Come on, let''s get moving," Grone said, already heading for the door.
Tyler quickly pulled on his dirty shoes and stepped outside, surprised to see many hunters already bustling about, even though it was still early. He followed Grone to where Grone circled a tent before stopping behind it. There, Tyler saw two horses and four wagons. A man was asleep on a bench at the front of one, idly chewing on a piece of straw. Grone approached him.
"Oh, looking for a ride?" the man asked, yawning.
"Yes," Grone replied. "Headed for Veridia."
"Veridia? That''ll be eight copper coins," the man said.
Grone paid him one silver coin and six copper coins.
"Oh, so you''re traveling with this young man?" the man asked, sitting up quickly.
"Yeah," Grone replied.
"Well then, hop in the back," the man said, gesturing.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Grone climbed into the back of the wagon, and Tyler followed, climbing into the somewhat enclosed space. He heard a thwack¡ªthe sound of the reins as the driver urged the horses forward¡ªand then the wagon started moving.
"So," Grone said, "since I''ve told you about my world, I''m curious about yours. How were things where you''re from? You said this world is strange."
Tyler looked at Grone. "I''m from Earth. It''s a place where most of the things here don''t exist. We used to have wagons and horses like this, but that was a very long time ago. We progressed technologically."
Tyler then described his world to Grone¡ªthe cars and planes, the currency, the way of life. He didn''t tell him everything; he wasn''t sure how to explain it all, how to find the right words. Grone listened intently, which surprised Tyler. He expected Grone to show some surprise, but Grone''s expression rarely changed. He realized that Grone''s stoic demeanor was almost always the same.
"Oh," Grone finally said, a hint of wonder in his voice. "So your world really is different from ours. I can see why you''re surprised, but don''t worry, you''ll get used to it."
Right now, we just need to rest until we get to town," Grone said, closing his eye and leaning back against the bench. The wagon bumped along, and Tyler watched as the forest and the base they''d left behind slowly disappeared in the distance. He was surprised; the base had been near the forest, but now they were traveling across a grassy plain. From what he could tell, they were heading southeast or southwest¡ªhe wasn''t sure which. The forest and the base receded, swallowed by the horizon. The thought of reaching town, of meeting new people and learning more about this world, filled him with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.
He watched as the wagon picked up speed, the horses now running, the increased pace causing the wagon to vibrate more intensely. He glanced at Grone, who remained unfazed, one eye closed, the other, injured. Tyler hesitated; he wanted to ask about the injury, but decided against it. It wasn''t his place to pry into Grone''s personal affairs. He turned his attention back to the road, noticing another forest in the distance to their side. It was far away, but it seemed to stretch parallel to their route, running alongside the road as they traveled.
He saw a cluster of houses to their right, far in the distance. A village? A town? He wasn''t sure. He should probably wake Grone. Maybe this was their destination. He gently shook Grone''s knee.
"What is it?" Grone mumbled, waking up.
Tyler pointed towards the distant houses. "Is that the place we''re supposed to go?"
Grone looked, then leaned back against the bench. "No. That''s Lyria. It''s one of the villages near the Crossroads base. It just means we''re close. Don''t worry, we''re be going straight to town, Just rest up. We''re getting close." Grone closed his eyes again. Tyler looked down, lost in thought.
His clothes were dirty, and he thought about his crafting skills. He had crafted armor once¡ªchest armor, to be precise¡ªthough the system classified it as regular clothing. That was when he first arrived in this world. Given his ability to craft weapons and armor, why wouldn''t he make shoes? He wasn''t sure. He looked up and quietly muttered, "Status."
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 4
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 37/37 MP: 33/33
STR: 22 AGI: 15 DEF: 39
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
He hadn''t checked his status in a while. Seeing it now, he considered becoming a hunter like Grone. Then he shook his head. He almost died fighting two rabbits once. Hunting was definitely out of the question. He''d have to find something else.
Tyler then realized something: his MP was full. He wasn''t sure why¡ªperhaps from resting?¡ªbut it was. He looked at Grone, and his level appeared: Level 50: James Grone. Tyler was surprised. He''d thought Grone was level 49. Level 50 meant Grone was now C-rank. Grone clearly wanted that rank, and now he had it. Why hadn''t Grone mentioned it yesterday? Tyler realized the system only showed levels when he was actively focusing on someone. Yesterday, leaving the inn, he hadn''t seen anyone''s level because he hadn''t been paying attention to their stats. But Grone, at level 50, clearly held his attention.
All these thoughts vanished as the wagon passed through a large gate¡ªa massive, imposing structure of stone. He couldn''t see the front, only the back, as the gate closed with a heavy clunk, large sliding gates descending from above. It was exactly like something from a historical movie he''d seen. Sounds of activity¡ªvoices, movement¡ªreached him as the wagon entered. Houses and people came into view, and Tyler was astonished. The buildings were a strange mix of medieval and modern, their painted facades lining a wide, central road. The road itself was rough-hewn gravel, and as they moved further into the town, he saw people bustling about: women in long dresses, men in various attire¡ªsome simple, some more elaborate. The scene was a vibrant mix of the familiar and the utterly foreign, a blend of eras and styles that left him breathless. He shook Grone''s knee.
"We''re here," Grone said, waking with a start. He reached into his bag and produced an eye patch¡ªblack. This was the first time Tyler had seen Grone put it on. Grone hesitated, a slight grimace on his face. "I don''t like wearing this; it makes me feel uncomfortable," he muttered, before securing the patch over his eye. "But my wife insists." The wagon stopped. Grone jumped down, and Tyler followed.
As Tyler''s feet met the cobblestones, a gasp escaped his lips. The confined space of the wagon had distorted his perception; the world, previously glimpsed in fragmented pieces, now unfolded in breathtaking detail. The town was a vibrant tapestry woven from the familiar and the utterly bizarre. Buildings, a chaotic blend of architectural styles¡ªsome hinting at a medieval past, others surprisingly ornate and elaborate¡ªrose on either side of a wide, central road. This road wasn''t paved in the usual sense; instead, large, uneven stones were embedded in the packed earth, creating a rough, textured surface. The air hummed with activity. People bustled past, their clothing a kaleidoscope of colors and styles: flowing silks and sturdy linens, intricate embroidery and simple weaves. He saw faces both familiar and alien¡ªpeople with fiery red hair, others with hair as white as winter snow, and then, a figure that stole his breath, with hair the color of a summer twilight sky. A cool wind, carrying the scent of unfamiliar spices and woodsmoke, ruffled his hair. He wondered, almost instinctively, about their levels. Then, a sharp ping resonated in his mind, and the world shimmered as levels materialized everywhere he looked.
"Don''t fall behind," Grone said, his voice low. Tyler hurried to keep pace, weaving carefully through the crowd, doing his best not to bump into anyone. He saw beautiful faces¡ªall utterly foreign¡ªand men in armor. Most wore steel, the same style of armor, suggesting they might belong to some kind of group or organization; a few wore leather. He continued to follow Grone, noticing that they seemed to be heading towards a marketplace. Vendors called out, their words unfamiliar, advertising goods Tyler couldn''t identify: purple fruits, green fruits, a riot of colors and unfamiliar foods.
Tyler noticed shops lining the streets: some displayed a hammer and anvil, others the familiar image of a goose holding a fork and knife, and still others showed a woman''s dress, indicating clothing stores. They moved past the marketplace, and the scene shifted to more residential areas¡ªhouses that seemed more lived-in and less ostentatious than those near the market square. Grone turned down a side street, and Tyler followed. The road split into three paths, and Grone chose the leftmost one. Then, something unexpected happened: Grone''s expression shifted, a look of genuine surprise crossing his features¡ªa rare occurrence. A woman ran towards them, her eyes fixed on Grone. "James," she said, her voice filled with relief, "I''m so glad you''re back."
She hugged Grone tightly, and he returned the embrace. Tyler remembered Grone mentioning a wife and daughter; could this be his wife? She did bear a resemblance, though it was hard to say for certain. She was strikingly beautiful. He offered a greeting, but she seemed not to notice him at all. Stepping back from Grone, she smiled warmly. "Oh, we have a guest," she said, gesturing towards the house. "Let''s not wait outside. Come in." Tyler realized they were close to a house, one of many tightly packed together, with little or no space between them, separated only by fences. The woman opened the door and stepped inside, Grone and Tyler following close behind. "Where''s Heather?" Grone asked.
"Oh, she''s sleeping. Should I go get her?" Lisa asked, glancing towards another room.
"Yeah," Grone replied. "By the way, this is Tyler. Tyler, this is Lisa, my wife."
Tyler extended a hand, and Lisa grasped it warmly with both of hers. "It''s very nice to meet you," she said, her smile genuine. "It''s not often my husband brings guests home. You must be special." She released his hand and went to fetch her daughter. Grone removed a small bag from his shoulder and placed it on the living room table. Tyler noticed the floor wasn''t carpeted, but covered in smooth, flat stones set into the earth, almost like tiles. The walls were surprisingly well-crafted; it was a comfortable, well-maintained home.
"Have a seat," Grone offered, settling onto a wooden chair near the table. Tyler sat as well. Lisa was still approaching, carrying a baby. Grone noticed the look of utter astonishment on Tyler''s face. Before he could speak, however, a message appeared above the baby''s head¡ªLevel 4. The baby was the same level as him?
Grone stood and went to meet Lisa, who was now close enough for him to take the baby. A soft laugh escaped him; he looked genuinely happy to be reunited with his family. "You missed me, didn''t you?" he murmured to the baby, who gurgled happily in response. Tyler watched, struck by the scene: Grone, Lisa, and the baby¡ªa picture of domestic bliss, almost too perfect, too movie-like. Yet, it was real, and the unsettling part was the baby''s level: a Level 4, just like him. Grone then turned to Tyler. "Tyler, this is my daughter, Heather." The baby simply stared at him. Lisa smiled. "How about I whip up something to eat? I just got back from the market," she said, disappearing into another room.
Grone sat down, and the baby, Heather, continued playing with something on him. She pulled out a small, silver pendant¡ªa square piece of metal with the letter "C" etched into it in green. It was attached to a necklace. Tyler stared, then looked at Grone. "You never told me you were C-rank," he said.
Grone said, "Oh, right. I completely forgot. I was so beat after that last quest. I fought a bunch of Hex Horns¡ªtook down a level 32 one, it was enormous!¡ªand that''s when I leveled up. Honestly, I barely noticed it at first."
"Does every Hunter have a necklace like that?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah," Grone replied. "It shows you''re a Hunter. They don''t just hand them out. Anyone seen carrying one who isn''t a Hunter? That''s a crime. Even if I wanted to, I couldn''t just give one to you."
"No, it''s not that," Tyler said. "It''s just... I didn''t notice it before. Yesterday, the whole day, I didn''t see this necklace."
Grone explained, "I keep it inside my armor during battles. Wearing it out actually makes me a bit uneasy, so I usually keep it hidden."
Heather, the baby, began tugging at the necklace, but it seemed securely fastened.
Grone''s wife, Lisa, emerged from the other room. "James, darling," she said, "it seems we''re out of salt. Since you''ve just arrived, you must be tired. Could you give me some money so I can go get some?"
Grone shook his head. "No, it''s okay. Tyler can go get it for us."
Tyler was taken aback by the suggestion. Grone, sensing his surprise, added, "You can, can''t you?"
Tyler shrugged. "Yeah, I can go get it. I won''t get lost, right? The road to the marketplace is pretty straightforward."
"Just ask one of the vendors where they sell salt," Grone confirmed.
"Yes," Lisa added.
Grone reached into his bag, producing three copper coins. "Go buy us some salt," he said, handing them to Tyler. "You can find it in some of the vendors in the market."
Tyler took the copper coins, rose from his chair, and opened the door. "Try not to get lost," Grone called out as Tyler stepped outside.
"I won''t," Tyler replied, closing the door behind him. He headed straight for the marketplace. "Man, that wagon ride seemed to take forever,"he thought, looking up at the sun, high in the midday sky. "It must be past one o''clock." He remembered he didn''t have his phone. The thought of Sarah popped into his head; he considered how embarrassing it would have been if she had agreed to give him her number back home. He''d have had to resort to writing it down on a scrap of paper, or even worse, his arm! Now, here, it was a completely moot point. Lost in thought, someone bumped into him from behind.
"Watch where you''re going," the man growled, his voice raspy. He wore worn leather pants, a dented breastplate of dark metal, and a knife at his hip. His bloodshot eyes glared.
Tyler, startled, said, "You bumped into me."
The man spun around, blocking Tyler''s path. He snarled, "What the hell did you just say to me? People in this town don''t show me enough respect." He paused, then added, "I might let this slide... if you give me the money you have right now."
Tyler stared, silently shook his head, and tried to edge past him.
The man''s hand shot out, a meaty fist that clamped around Tyler''s collar, halting his escape. A predatory grin stretched across the his face. Tyler then saw a necklace around his neck, It had the latter A. "You think I''m joking, right?" he purred, his voice a low growl that vibrated in Tyler''s chest. He leaned in close.
Before Tyler could react, a fist the size of a small rock connected with his nose. The impact sent white-hot pain exploding behind his eyes. A sickening crack split the silence, the sound of bone giving way under brutal force. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. He tasted blood, metallic and coppery on his tongue.
"Think this is a fucking joke?" the man snarled, his voice thick with cruel amusement. Another punch landed, this time on his jaw, sending a jolt of agony through his head. And then again, and again, a relentless barrage of blows that left him gasping for breath, his body a bruised and battered mess. He tried to scream, to call for help, but the words caught in his throat, choked by pain and fear. The man finally hurled him to the cobblestones, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs. Lying there, dazed and disoriented, Tyler saw the man casually pocketing the five copper coins¡ªhis only possession.
Two figures, their faces obscured by the shadows of nearby buildings, passed by, their hushed whispers barely audible above the sounds of the approaching marketplace. They saw the attack, but continued on their way, offering no help.
The man looked down at Tyler, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "You lucky I didn''t use any of my true strength," he sneered, spitting on Tyler''s chest. "One punch would have blown your head off. What a cheap fucking person," he added, before turning and walking away towards the marketplace.
Tyler felt a burning humiliation, but more than that, a raw, physical pain. His face was a mess. Blood dripped onto the cobblestones. His nose was broken, his lip busted, and he was missing a tooth¡ªone from the very back of his mouth. He stood, his body trembling. "Just my freaking luck," he muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. "This is how it always is. They give me money to buy something, and this happens. Of course it would."
Tyler¡¯s mind drifted back to another time, a memory sharp with the sting of exhaustion and humiliation. He¡¯d been walking home from his construction job, bone-tired after a grueling six AM to six PM shift. The money in his pocket, his hard-earned wages, felt heavy and inadequate against the crushing weight of fatigue. Then, it happened. Just like this. Robbers. A flurry of fists and feet, the sickening crunch of bone, the cold terror of helplessness. They¡¯d left him bleeding in the gutter, his money gone, his pride shattered. And the taunts¡ the same sneering contempt, the same accusations of being cheap. He clenched his fists, the memory a fresh wound. "Here, in this new world," he thought, a bitter laugh catching in his throat, "it¡¯s no different." He was still the same pathetic loser, the same parasite feeding off the kindness of others, just like with Mike. The thought burned, a brand of self-loathing seared into his soul. He was nothing but a burden, a failure in every world.
He started the slow walk back to Grone¡¯s house, the faces of passersby blurring into a meaningless stream. Some were shocked, their eyes lingering on his battered face. Others were expressionless, their gazes sliding past him as if he were nothing more than a stray dog. He didn¡¯t care. They didn¡¯t have to care. He didn¡¯t deserve help, not really. He¡¯d never gotten much, except from Mike. His family¡ they¡¯d barely lifted a finger. That one time, the money to go to another city, to find a job¡ªit had been an excuse, a way to get rid of him. He knew it then, and he knew it now. He¡¯d overheard his mother talking to one of his brothers, the words cutting him deeper than any fist: giving him food felt like a waste, since it yielded nothing in return.
He didn¡¯t hate his mother for it. If anything, she¡¯d been right. They hadn¡¯t wanted to spoil him. His brothers, successful in their own lives, barely lived at home anymore. He was the only one left, a constant reminder of failure¡ªfailed school, failed jobs, a life spent clinging to the edges of existence. Their visits were infrequent, punctuated by the conversation he still replayed in his mind. He considered a way back home, but what was there to return to? The same life of being looked down upon, the same crushing weight of inadequacy? He was nothing, a pathetic person who¡¯d achieved nothing. A short, humorless laugh escaped him¡ªa self-mocking sound, devoid of mirth. He reached Grone¡¯s house and opened the door.
Grone was meticulously wiping his blade with a cloth, the rhythmic motion a stark contrast to the chaos about to erupt. "That was quick," he began, without looking up, "Did you find the sal¡ª" He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze snapping to Tyler. The sight that met his eyes halted the words on his tongue. Tyler¡¯s nose was grotesquely twisted, his lip split and swollen, his cheeks bruised and puffy. His expression was grim, his eyes filled with a weary despair.
"What happened?" Grone asked, his voice low.
Grone''s wife rushed in, her face a mask of alarm. "What happened to you? Did you get attacked?" she cried, her eyes darting to Grone. "I told you this might happen! You should have gone instead!"
A pang of guilt struck Grone. "Yeah," he muttered, "Come inside, quick. Sit down."
Tyler sank onto a chair, the pathetic weight of his injuries pressing down on him. Grone¡¯s wife quickly fetched a bowl of water and a cloth, beginning to gently wipe the blood from his face.
"I was attacked," Tyler managed, the words catching in his throat. "On the way to the marketplace. He robbed me¡ªtook all my money. It was an A-rank Hunter," he added, his voice barely a whisper.
Grone was taken aback. "An A-rank Hunter did this to you?" He could take Tyler to the guards, get a description, but this was an A-rank. He knew those reports often got swept under the rug.
Tyler¡¯s words were strained, each syllable a painful effort. "Grone¡ I¡ I want to be a hunter."
Chapter 14: The Blacksmith
Three days had passed since the A-rank hunter had left Tyler a broken mess. He sat in a rough-hewn wooden tub, the warm water doing little to soothe the lingering aches. The memory of his declaration to Grone¡ªhis desperate wish to become a hunter¡ªstill echoed in his mind. Lisa, Grone''s wife, had vehemently opposed the idea, citing the inherent dangers of the profession. She''d voiced the same concerns when Grone himself had aspired to be a hunter, but Grone, it seemed, had no choice. Grone, though sympathetic, echoed his wife''s concerns. "You don''t have to be a hunter, Tyler," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You''re weak now. With your current rank¡ªand hunters are ranked E to D and below¡ªit''ll be incredibly difficult." He paused, considering. "There are other jobs you could do." The following day, Grone outlined some options: working on a farm, selling goods in the marketplace.
Grone mentioned another option. "I have a friend, a blacksmith. He crafts weapons, and could use an extra hand. He lost his last assistant, so¡ I''ll speak to him and see if he''s interested in hiring you."
Tyler nodded. "Okay," he said. "If he''s willing, I''ll work for him." In the days that followed, Tyler found himself increasingly preoccupied by the system. Whenever he focused his thoughts on it, the crafting menu would appear. He''d been experimenting, using Grone''s firewood to practice, crafting crude wooden katanas and swords. He still had no idea how it worked.
Tyler realized something unsettling: the system seemed fixated on weapons. No matter what he tried to craft, it always revolved around weaponry. Then, a memory surfaced: he had crafted armor once. Yesterday, Grone had urged him to bathe¡ªhis first bath since arriving in this world. The cleansing water had been incredibly refreshing. Now, considering the system''s stats¡ªdefense, agility, strength¡ªeverything pointed to one conclusion: this system, with its relentless focus on combat, was designed to turn him in to a hunter.
Grone and his wife¡¯s worry was palpable. Being a hunter was dangerous; he could die. Tyler understood their fear, and felt some of it himself. But a deeper truth resonated within him. From the moment he was old enough to work, he¡¯d never had an easy job. Part-time construction, grueling gardening, anything that demanded physical strength and endurance. So, honestly, being a hunter. It was just another tough job. Only this time, the circumstances were different¡ªa new world, strange creatures, and a desperate need to survive. He had crafted weapons before, even a rusty blade. The fact that the system could produce a rusty blade, however crude, suggested it could create far superior weapons, weapons with greater durability and higher attack power. Lost in thought, he heard a knock on the door.
"Tyler, you in there?" Grone called.
"Yes, I''m here," Tyler replied.
"Remember that blacksmith friend I mentioned? The one I said I''d talk to about needing an assistant?" Grone''s voice was firm, as always. Tyler felt a knot of nervousness tighten in his stomach.
"Yeah?" Tyler managed.
"Well, he agreed to hire you. Of course, he''ll want to meet you and see if you can handle the work. So, come out and meet me outside after you''re done bathing, alright?"
"Yeah, I''ll be quick," Tyler said, already starting to dry himself.
After a deep breath, Tyler pulled on his new clothes: a thin, almost sweater-like shirt, and trousers of a dark, muddy brown, the fabric surprisingly tough despite its thinness. He slipped on his shoes and went outside to meet Grone.
"That was quick," Grone commented.
"Yeah," Tyler replied, his nervousness still evident. "Didn''t want to keep you waiting."
"Okay, let''s go," Grone said, starting to walk.
Tyler fell into step beside him, realizing they were heading back towards the marketplace. They joined the main road, walking straight ahead, passing rows of houses. A familiar chill ran down his spine as he recognized the spot where the A-rank hunter had attacked him, stealing his money. He quickly shook off the memory, focusing instead on the present. He was getting a job in this new world, assisting a blacksmith. He had no idea what the work would entail, but he hoped it would be manageable.
As they walked, Tyler noticed they were approaching the marketplace. Stepping inside, the familiar bustle hit him. People thronged the walkways; vendors hawked fruits and food. He knew the tastes of apples, oranges, and grapes from his old world. The fruits here, however, were completely different. The flavors were alien, unlike anything he''d ever experienced. Only one fruit he''d sampled had a remotely familiar taste¡ªvaguely reminiscent of a banana.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Tyler glanced to his left and saw the familiar silhouette of a hammer and anvil above a shop. "Here we are," Grone said. The shop wasn''t large, more like a medium-sized house. Stepping inside, Tyler saw a man behind a counter, a variety of weapons arrayed behind him. Knives and axes hung on the walls; on the left, suits of armor stood displayed.
"Hector," Grone said, "How''s it been? How''s your day?"
Hector, a head taller than Grone, possessed a short, blonde crop and a slightly bulky but not intimidating physique. A simmering anger flickered in his blue eyes. "Not great," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "It''s just that I had some kid come in here and steal a dagger earlier this morning. I chased him down the street, told the guards, but they couldn''t catch the little brat."
"Those kids are still causing problems, huh?" Grone remarked.
"Yeah," Hector sighed, "Those street kids need to learn a lesson. If they keep stealing, they''ll end up locked up eventually. Too bad there isn''t an orphanage in town. I even told them to go to Lyria, to the orphanage there, but they''d need a guardian to take them. I kind of feel sorry for them, you know," he admitted, his anger softening slightly. "But I''m still frustrated about that dagger. Do you know how long it took me to make that?"
"I''m not really a craftsman, so I wouldn''t know," Grone said with a chuckle. "Oh, yeah, I''m here to introduce you to that boy we talked about. This is Tyler. He''s the one who wants to be your assistant."
At Grone''s words, Hector walked around the counter, hand resting thoughtfully on his chin. He studied Tyler intently, his gaze sweeping over his physique, circling him slowly as if assessing his capabilities. Finally, he said, "Can you lift your arm for me?" Tyler obeyed.
"All right, put them down," Hector said, and Tyler lowered his arms. Hector looked him over again, then shook his head. "Yeah, sorry, but this isn''t going to work."
Grone looked surprised. "What? What are you talking about?"
A wave of nervousness washed over Tyler. He knew he wasn''t exactly physically imposing. He wasn''t thin, but he certainly wasn''t ripped either. He''d always been a bit chubby before he started taking on those hard jobs, and while the work had toned him up, it hadn''t exactly sculpted him into a paragon of physical fitness.
Tyler''s mind raced. Was this it? Was his physical appearance the reason? He didn''t consider himself unlucky, per se; he just felt he had no luck at all. Then, Hector surprised him. "Um, I don''t know," Hector said, "The kid kind of looks.... stupid."
Grone said, "What do you mean?"
Hector replied, " I mean, look at him. He doesn''t look bright at all. His face kind of looks like Jim''s."
Tyler felt a strange mix of offense and relief. Grone, however, seemed to have a different perspective.
"Just give him a chance," Grone said. "He''s just starting; he''s never really worked for a craftsman before."
Hector looked Tyler over again, then shrugged. "Alright," he conceded. "Okay, can you start today?"
Grone turned to Tyler. "Can you?"
"Yeah, I can start today," Tyler replied.
"Okay, come with me," Hector said. "And, Grone, it was great seeing you."
"Yeah," Grone replied. "Take care of him for me." Then he left.
"Okay, kid, let''s head out the back," Hector said, gesturing towards a door tucked into the corner beside the counter. He opened it and stepped through, Tyler following close behind. Tyler gasped. The back room was a stark contrast to the relatively tidy shop front. The floor was rough-hewn earth, packed hard but still uneven underfoot. The air hung thick with the smell of coal smoke and hot metal, the heat radiating from a massive furnace dominating one side of the room. Anvil stands, some worn smooth with years of use, others newer and gleaming, were scattered around the space. Half-finished swords, gleaming and dull, lay on nearby workbenches, interspersed with hammers of various sizes, tongs, and other tools of the trade. The walls were blackened with soot, a testament to years of forging. It was a chaotic yet strangely organized space, a forge in its truest, most elemental form.
By the door, a wooden bucket overflowed with rusted metal scraps, a mix of metals including what looked like zinc. "Oh yeah," Hector said, "Can you throw those out for me? They''re no good anymore. Just toss them out the back; you''ll see a hole in the ground. Throw them in there with the rest."
"Oh," Tyler replied.
"Harry," Hector began, then corrected himself, "Tyler, I''m about to teach you how to help me craft," Hector said.
Tyler took the bucket and went through the back door. Behind the shop, there were no cobblestones; just bare earth. He could see other houses in the distance, but the immediate area was simply ground, and a sizable pit filled with discarded metal scraps. The system notification appeared again: Metal Scraps.
A memory surfaced: he''d once used scrap metal found in the forest to craft a rusty blade. If he was right, he could do the same with these. He considered selecting some unrusted pieces and adding them to his inventory. A thrill of excitement shot through him. He tossed the remaining scraps into the pit and returned to the forge, where he found Hector shirtless, his physique surprisingly ripped, a large X-shaped scar prominent across his chest. "Hurry up, kid," Hector called out impatiently.
"Alright, kid," Hector said, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. "First day, you don''t need to help yet. Just watch. Pay attention." He gestured towards a length of steel, already roughly shaped but far from finished. "This is going to be a longsword. See how it''s already been drawn out? That''s the first step, getting the basic shape. Now, we need to refine it."
Hector hefted the steel to the furnace, the orange glow reflecting in his intense eyes. He shoved it deep into the heart of the fire, the metal hissing as it met the intense heat. The air filled with the roar of the flames and the clang of the bellows as Hector worked the fire, coaxing the heat to exactly the right level. He checked the steel with practiced ease, using tongs to pull it from the fire, the metal glowing a bright cherry red. He placed it on the anvil with a heavy *thunk*, the sound echoing in the small forge.
Then came the rhythmic clang of hammer against steel. Each strike was precise, powerful, and controlled. Sparks flew, showering the air with incandescent motes. Hector worked with a focused intensity, his muscles bunching and relaxing with each swing. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing grew heavier, but his movements never faltered. He turned the steel, shaping it, refining it, inch by inch. The rhythmic clang was hypnotic, a steady beat against the backdrop of the furnace''s roar.
Tyler watched, fascinated. He''d never seen such skill, such precision, such raw power channeled into such a delicate task. It wasn''t just brute force; it was artistry. He saw the way Hector''s eyes never left the steel, the way his body moved with an almost intuitive grace. This wasn''t just work; it was a dance, a conversation between man and metal. Finally, Hector pulled the glowing steel from the anvil. He plunged it into a trough of water with a hiss of steam, the metal singing as it cooled. The process was repeated several times, each time refining the shape and temper of the blade. Tyler was completely captivated.
Chapter 15 : The perfect sword And A Way Home
Hector Dry used Skill: Reinforcement. The system immediately displayed a text box above him. The sword in his hand instantly began to darken, a black wave spreading from the hilt to the tip. A sharp, metallic scent filled the air. Hector Dry looked at Tyler, a strange glint in his eyes. "And that, kid," he said, tossing the sword to Tyler, "Is how you make a sword."
Tyler caught the weapon. "You see that whetstone?" Hector Dry asked, pointing to a white stone on the floor. "I need you to grind this until it''s razor sharp. The edges are sharp, but they''re still blunt. Sharpen both sides¡ªit''s double-edged."
Tyler examined the sword, his amazement palpable. The silver blade felt intensely warm, almost hot, yet it hadn''t burned his hands. Now, as Hector had used his reinforcement skill to change its color, it was black. Hefting it by the hilt, he moved toward the whetstone. Suddenly, a jolt of electricity surged through him, blue sparks erupting from his hands like miniature lightning strikes. The shock was intense; he dropped the sword with a cry of pain. Hector watched, a mixture of surprise and concern on his face.
A system message appeared: Weapon Restriction: Only self-crafted weapons may be utilized. Tyler stared, a cold dread settling in his stomach. He hadn''t considered this implication. Since arriving in this world, he''d only handled weapons of his own making. But what did this mean? Could this mean he could no longer work in the blacksmith''s shop? The thought hit him with the force of a physical blow. He couldn''t handle other people''s tools, couldn''t even pick up a sword without risking another painful shock.
"What happened?" Hector asked, noticing Tyler''s sudden pallor.
"I... I don''t know how to explain it," Tyler stammered, his voice tight with anxiety. "I don''t think I can do this."
"What do you mean? Just pick up the sword and sharpen it already," Hector said, his voice laced with impatience.
Tyler hesitated, his gaze flickering between the sword and Hector''s expectant face. He reached out a trembling hand. As his fingers brushed the hilt, a sharp jolt¡ªless violent than before, but still intensely unpleasant¡ªshot through him. He recoiled, holding his hand.
"What the hell just happened?" Hector demanded, his gaze sharp.
Tyler swallowed, his face pale. "I''m not allowed to use... I think I''m not allowed to touch any weapons that aren''t mine. I am getting electrocuted every time I try."
Hector stared at Tyler, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, are you saying you can''t touch any weapon?"
Tyler nodded miserably. "Yeah, it seems so."
Hector let out a long sigh, the sound heavy with resignation. "Well, kid, then I don''t think you can work here. Helping a blacksmith involves a lot of handling weapons, you know. Plus, who''s not letting you touch any other weapons?" Hector asked, genuinely curious.
Tyler hesitated, then said, "Well, there''s this... thing. I think I''m just going to call it the ''system.'' It''s not letting me use any other weapons."
"System," Hector mused, then continued, "Oh, so you''re cursed."
Tyler''s eyes widened in surprise. "No, I''m not cursed. I''m just¡ª"
"Then what do we do?" Hector interrupted, looking around the cluttered workshop. He spotted a traditional broom leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up. "Hey, Tyler, don''t worry. How about you sweep up the floor for me? One silver coin."
Tyler looked up, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "Okay," he said quietly. "I think I can do that."
Hector returned to his work, the rhythmic clang of his hammer filling the air. Tyler began sweeping, the broom stirring up a cloud of dust motes dancing in the sunlight. After a while, Hector called out, "Whoa there, Tyler! Easy on the dust. There''s too much swirling around. Try splashing some water on the floor to settle it down."
Where can I get water?" Tyler asked.
Hector gestured towards to the other room. "Oh, just go to the shop where I sell the weapons. Look behind the counter. There are barrels of water there, and a small bucket. Grab the bucket, fill it with water, and start splashing it around. That''ll settle the dust. Then you can continue sweeping."
Tyler carefully filled the bucket with water, then returned to the workshop. He splashed the water onto the floor, taking care to avoid the weapons and tools meticulously arranged on the workbenches. Once the dust had settled somewhat, he resumed sweeping, diligently collecting the debris into a pile. He carried the dust outside, dumping it into a large pit overflowing with discarded metal scraps.
Returning to Hector, he asked, "You said those metal scraps don''t work anymore, right?"
Hector glanced at Tyler. "Yeah, but some of them are still usable, just not very useful. And they take up too much space. Even if someone stole them, I wouldn''t care much."
Can I take some?" Tyler asked, gesturing toward the pit of scrap metal.
Hector continued working on the sword, the rhythmic pounding of his hammer unwavering. "Um, yeah, sure... but why would you want those scraps?" he asked without looking up.
Well... I can craft weapons, too," Tyler replied, his voice quiet and unassuming.
Hector''s hammer stopped abruptly. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his face hardened, though he still didn''t look away from the sword. The sudden silence in the workshop was heavy with unspoken tension.
"I thought you said you can''t handle weapons," Hector said, his voice sharp, finally looking up from his work.
"No, no, no," Tyler said quickly. "The system¡ªit''s not letting me handle weapons crafted by someone else. It needs me to craft weapons of my own in order to utilize them.
Hector stared at Tyler, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What? So if I give you this hammer right here, are you telling me you can actually craft a weapon?"Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Tyler shook his head, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "No, no, I can''t craft a weapon like you. Well, not exactly. The system... it kind of does it for me. It says it''s a skill I have."
Tyler kept mentioning the system, the system, over and over, but Hector didn''t understand what Tyler was talking about. What was the system? Wasn''t Tyler just cursed? He thought Tyler was one of those people who were cursed to not be able to do some tasks, but that didn''t seem to be the case with how he was explaining things. And yet, it sounded familiar. Hector then looked at Tyler and said, "You know what, just take whatever you need from that pile. As I said, I''m not really using them."
Tyler felt a bit happy after Hector''s words. He went outside and surveyed the pile of scrap metal. Iron, copper, and what looked like zinc littered the heap. Some scraps were jagged and potentially dangerous, others resembled shattered swords. As he began to sort through the pile, the system displayed the name of each scrap: iron, copper, steel, and other metals.
He placed the selected metals into his inventory, intending to gather more steel. However, the system promptly announced, "Inventory full." He checked his inventory and realized, with a sigh, that his storage space was indeed limited¡ªa consequence of being only a level four. He knew that his inventory capacity would increase with each level-up. What surprised him was the system''s precise count of the materials: eight copper and nine iron.
Tyler stood up and returned to the shop. "So, I can clean the shop as well?" he asked Hector.
Hector looked around the already tidy space. "Oh, yeah, um... it''s already clean. So, I guess I''ll just give you one silver coin for today." He pulled a silver coin from his pocket and tossed it to Tyler.
Tyler caught it. "Thank you," he said.
Hector shrugged. "I think that''ll be all for today. Since you can and can''t craft at the same time... I don''t want to think about it. My brain hurts every time I try to think too hard. Come back tomorrow, and maybe you can show me this crafting skill of yours."
A thought struck Tyler: maybe he could store the coin in his inventory! It was full of scrap metal, but he could remove the wooden sword to make room. He wondered if it would work. Stepping back outside, he started walking toward Groom''s house. A wooden sword materialized in his hand. He heard gasps from passersby but continued walking, his gaze falling upon the silver coin¡ªwhich vanished as he looked at it.
He checked his inventory; there it was¡ªone silver coin. A wave of satisfaction washed over him. Even if robbed, his money would be safe, hidden unless he chose to reveal it. Still, the thought lingered that someone might attack him regardless of his lack of visible funds. Dismissing the worry, Tyler continued walking. Then, another thought surfaced. Grone had taken him to the blacksmith after he''d expressed his desire to be a hunter. Yet, a growing feeling persisted that perhaps his true calling was being a hunter after all.
He looked up and continued walking to Grone''s house. Reaching the house, he entered and saw Grone''s wife. "Good evening, Lisa," he greeted her.
"Good evening," she replied. "How was your first day at the job?"
"It was okay," Tyler said. "I made a silver coin."
Lisa looked at him, confused. "You made a silver coin?"
Tyler explained, "I couldn''t really help Hector with the crafting, so I just cleaned the shop."
"Oh, okay," Lisa said.
"Where''s Grone?" Tyler asked.
Lisa replied, "Oh, Grone''s gone to take on some quests. He''ll be back a little late."
"Oh," Tyler said. "Okay, I''ll... um... be in the room." He gestured vaguely toward the room on the left where he slept.
"Come up later for dinner, alright?" Lisa said.
"Okay," Tyler replied.
Tyler entered the room and sat on the bed, a single bed clearly designed for one person. A mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbled inside him as he thought about the system, the crafting, and the inventory, which shimmered into view. He stared at the system interface, a question forming in his mind: What if I asked the system some questions? Would it be able to answer?
He''d asked the system before why he was there, and received no response. He''d also inquired about returning home, a question that felt foolish given the system''s inert nature. The system''s silence had left him feeling awkward. Now, he tried a different approach: "System, how do I know which item to craft?" To his surprise, a text box appeared, displaying a message.
The system displayed its message: "Recipes are quest rewards. To craft, use the command ''Craft [item name]'' (replace ''[item name]'' with the actual name of the item). Your crafting level impacts the success rate."
Tyler was astonished. "It actually answered me!" he exclaimed. "Wait, wait... um, okay... man, this thing really answered me! Um, what do you mean by ''recipes''? You mean like, ingredients I need to craft items?"
Another text box appeared: Correct
"But I don''t understand," Tyler said, shaking his head. "How... can you give me an example?"
A new text box appeared, empty except for three ellipses (...) as if the system were processing his request.
The system responded with a new text box: Searching inventory for suitable recipe example... A moment later, another text box appeared: To craft The Bashing Hammer, user needs 10 iron and 2 slime cores.
"Wait," Tyler said, "I have nine iron and two or three slime cores. So I need one more iron to make this hammer. Is this the only thing I can make right now? What other recipes to make other weapons?"
A new text box from the system appeared: only one recipe example can be used as a tutorial.
Disappointment washed over Tyler, quickly followed by a flicker of hope. He had crafted a rusty sword before, and he hadn''t needed a recipe for that. Did that mean he didn''t always need a recipe? Perhaps recipes were only necessary for knowing how to craft stronger items; otherwise, he''d just end up crafting random wepons. The possibility that he could craft without a recipe was appealing.
"Can I craft anything with this copper?" he asked the system.
The system replied Crafting is possible , followed by a new text box that read: Craft item.
"No, wait," Tyler said, "what about iron?" He remembered the rusty sword; perhaps the random crafting worked because he''d used scrap metal. "Craft sword using iron," he instructed.
The system responded: Eight iron is needed to craft an Iron Sword. Crafting is possible. Crafting item...
Excitement surged through Tyler as he watched a progress bar slowly fill. Then, as if summoned from thin air, a sword materialized in his hand. It wasn''t a slender blade; instead, it possessed a substantial weight and a subtle curve, almost crescent-shaped, a gentle bend along its length. The surface gleamed, a polished silver mirroring his own awestruck face. It felt substantial, high-quality steel, far surpassing anything he''d seen before, even Hector''s finest work. The craftsmanship was exquisite; intricate details, barely visible to the naked eye, hinted at a level of skill beyond his comprehension. He slid a finger along the razor-sharp edge, a tiny prick of blood welling instantly where the steel had grazed his skin. The sharpness was breathtaking, a testament to the sword''s deadly potential. He could feel the weight, the balance, the perfect distribution of mass in his hand¡ªa weapon both beautiful and terrifyingly efficient.
Tyler licked the blood from his finger, tasting the metallic tang. The cut was minor, just a superficial graze, but the sharpness of the sword had impressed him. He stood, waving the newly crafted weapon experimentally. The system remained silent, offering no electric shocks this time. "Hey," he muttered to the system, "why do I have to use my own weapons?" The system ignored him, leaving him feeling that familiar awkwardness.
Just then, Lisa, Grone''s wife, opened the door. "Tyler," she said, "who are you talking to?"
"Oh, um, no one," he stammered, feeling a blush creep up his neck.
"Where did you get that sword?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Oh, um, I made it," Tyler said, the sword shimmering and vanishing as he spoke.
Lisa''s eyes widened in surprise. "What? You can do that?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, scratching the back of his head. "I''m sort of a craftsman."
Lisa was confused. "Craftsman? It''s more like you''re some kind of mage-hunter," she mused. "You made the sword?"
"Yeah, I made it right now," Tyler explained. "You see, I have this skill that lets me create weapons from materials... magically, I think."
Lisa, fascinated, said, "Why didn''t James tell me about that?"
"Um, I don''t know," Tyler replied.
"Oh, okay," Lisa said. "Anyways, dinner''s about to be ready, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Tyler responded.
Lisa closed the door. Tyler was left alone with his thoughts.
He reacted to the system''s continued silence. "Oh, yeah," he said, "you said I get recipes and stuff. How do I get recipes?"
Surprisingly, the system responded: Recipes can be rewarded after completing hunter quests.
Tyler''s surprise was palpable. "Wait a damn minute," he exclaimed. "Are you telling me I actually have to become a hunter and take hunter quests to get recipes as rewards?"
The system, once again, ignored him.
The answer was clear: recipes were rewards for completing hunter quests. That meant he had to accept a quest, just like Grone, and complete it. But Grone and his wife clearly didn''t want him to become a hunter. What was he to do?
He looked at the system, deciding to try a different approach to a question he knew had been unanswered before. Instead of asking directly, "How do I get home?", he rephrased it: "What do I need to do to get home?"
Surprisingly, the system responded. The text box was initially empty, then shimmered with a vibrant blue light.
Objectives have to be fulfilled ,the system stated. Certain achievements and objectives have to be fulfilled in order for the user to return to their own world.
Tyler was stunned. There was a way home! "Wait," he exclaimed, "what are the objectives? What are they?"
The system, predictably, ignored him.
"Wait," Tyler insisted, "are you going to ignore me just like that? What are the objectives? What do I need to do to go home? What do I need to do?"
The system responded: Objectives cannot be revealed at the user''s current level.
This only fueled Tyler''s frustration. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "I''m going to become a hunter," he declared to himself. "I have to reach a certain level for the objective to be revealed. With or without Grone''s help, I have to do this."
Outside the room, Lisa was busy cooking. She paused, a puzzled expression on her face. "What''s wrong with that kid?" she murmured to herself. "Why does he keep talking to himself in there?"
Chapter 16: A Step Forward
Grone was heading towards the base''s tent, carrying the shadow claw hides. Completing this delivery was crucial for finishing his C-Rank mission. As he walked, he ran into Gary. Gary looked Grone up and down, a mocking expression on his face. "Huh," he said, "to think you''d actually be a C-Rank."
"Get out of my way, Gary," Grone said, "I''m not in the mood to talk to you today."
Gary smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender as Grone tried to pass. But as Grone went by, Gary snatched one of the shadow claw hides from his grasp.
"Shadow Claws," Gary said, holding up the hide. "There''s no way you actually beat the Shadow Claws. And man, these are huge! Level 30, I''m thinking. A weak old man like you beat them? Tell me the truth. That necklace you''re wearing... you''re not really a C-Rank, are you?"
Grone let the remaining shadow claw hides drop to the ground with a thud. He lunged for the hide Gary held, attempting to snatch it back. Gary easily sidestepped, dodging Grone''s grab. Grone tried again, and again Gary evaded him, laughing and mocking Grone''s slow, clumsy movements.
"Give that back!" Grone demanded, his voice tight with frustration.
Gary continued to laugh, taunting him. "Aw, how about you beg for it? Maybe I''ll give it to you then."
"Do you want this to be a fight?" Grone growled, unsheathing his sword. The glint of steel in the sunlight was a stark contrast to his usually calm demeanor.
Gary smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Ha! Do you want to fight me? I''m pretty sure if my pet was here, you couldn''t even make it past it."
Grone launched himself forward, sword raised, but Gary easily jumped back, tossing the shadow claw hide in Grone''s face as he dodged. The hide struck Grone squarely, momentarily blinding him. He stopped, momentarily disoriented, and picked up the discarded hide. Gary watched him, his laughter echoing across the Crossroads Base.
Grone glared at Gary, his anger simmering beneath a controlled exterior. He sheathed his sword in its scabbard, the click a sharp counterpoint to the silence that followed. Then, picking up the shadow claw hide, he walked off towards the tent.
"Good to know you''re still the same weak, old ass man you''ve always been," Gary sneered after him.
Grone felt a jolt of anger, a stunned silence momentarily halting his steps. He knew fighting Gary would be foolish; he wasn''t at that level yet. But he kept walking, the insult burning in his ears, his jaw clenched tight.
Grone reached the tent, finding it bustling with other hunters. Behind the counter, he saw Serena. He placed the shadow claw hides on the counter.
Serena''s eyes widened in amazement. "Wow, you''ve actually completed it! You said this would be your last quest of the day, right?"
"Yeah," Grone replied, "it''s getting late. I have to head back to town."
"Okay," Serena said, counting out coins. "This will be five gold."
Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Five gold? That was equivalent to fifty silver! "Wow," he breathed, "shadow claw hides are worth that much?"
"Yeah," Serena said, "they''re worth this much because they''re not easy to find. Shadow claws are mostly easy to spot at night, but that''s when some pretty deadly creatures come out too. So the price was raised because of the quality of their fur and the dangers involved in hunting them at night. But to think you caught about four of them "during the day..."
Grone nodded. "Yeah, I kind of know where they reside during the..." He paused, considering whether to reveal his secret hunting spot.
"Anyway," Grone said, tucking the gold safely away, "I''m going to have to head back to town." He went behind the tent to where the wagons were parked. He spotted the driver who had taken him to town before and gave a friendly greeting. The man returned the greeting. Grone climbed aboard.
"Going back to town?" the driver asked as they set off.
"Yes," Grone replied.
*******
Back at home, Tyler held the sword, examining it closely. A text box shimmered into existence beside the weapon, displaying the message: +6% ATK. Tyler''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "6%?" he muttered. "Isn''t that a little too low? The sword looks pretty good, but to think it only gives a 6% boost... Maybe if my attack was way higher, it wouldn''t be so bad."
Then Tyler thought, "Wait, I have like 22 Strength, right?" As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the system interface appeared, displaying his stats:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 4
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 37/37 MP: 33/33
STR: 24 AGI: 15 DEF: 12
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
He stared at the Strength stat. 24. He''d forgotten the increase from the sword. The 6% boost was small, but it was still something.
Wait, so the 6% actually increases my Strength? Tyler thought, realizing he hadn''t really tested how much his strength had grown since his Strength was raised by the system. He was eager to test it. He stood up from his bed, walked to the side, and knelt down, placing his hand underneath. He braced himself and tried to lift the wooden bed. The wood felt incredibly heavy. But to his surprise, he was doing it! He managed to lift the bed frame a few inches off the ground. He carefully lowered it back down, staring at his hand in disbelief. "Wow," he whispered, "I''m actually stronger."
After that sentence, his amazement was overshadowed by a surge of fear and anger as the memory of being beaten and robbed by that A-Rank reappeared, vivid and painful. He clenched his fist, his knuckles white. "Alright, it''s decided," he muttered, his voice low and resolute. "I have to talk to Grone about becoming a hunter. It''s the only way I can get home. It''s the only way I''ll get stronger. The system needs me to level up more so it can tell me when I can go home, tell me the objectives I have to achieve." As soon as he finished that thought, the front door to the house swung open.
He left his room and saw Grone arriving, carrying a bag that appeared to contain groceries ¨C meat, fruits, and vegetables. Grone was carefully placing the items on the table one by one. Tyler greeted him. "Good evening. How was your day going?"
Grone smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "It went pretty well, as you can see. Turns out being a C-Rank actually is pretty amazing. It''s not like those D-Rank quests. The C-Rank quests actually bring in a lot of money."
"Oh, James, you''re back," his wife, Lisa, said, emerging from the kitchen. Dinner was clearly ready. Tyler was surprised; it was actually quite late. He guessed it was around eight o''clock, or perhaps even later. Grone greeted his wife warmly, and Tyler offered to help pack the grocery.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
"How''s Heather?" Grone asked, his voice softening as he inquired about his daughter.
"Oh, she''s in the kitchen," Lisa replied, a smile warming her face. "She''s been helping me make dinner." She then gestured towards the table. "You can sit. I''m going to dish it up."
Grone and Tyler sat down. Tyler leaned forward. "Grone, there''s something I really need to tell you."
Grone nodded. "Oh, yeah? I wanted to ask you something too. Anyways, um, sorry for interrupting. Tell me. What is it you wanted to tell me?"
"Um, you can go first," Tyler said.
Grone nodded. "Okay. How was your first day at the job? I remember leaving you with Hector. How was it?"
Tyler''s face fell. "Yeah, um, about that¡ it seems I can''t really help him at the store."
"What? Why?" Grone asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
Tyler hesitated. "It seems the system¡ it''s not letting me use any weapons that aren''t mine."
Grone leaned forward, intrigued. "The system? What system?"
Tyler mumbled, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "Oh yeah, um¡ I really don''t know how to explain it to you."
Grone leaned back, considering this. "So what are you going to do? What did you do for the rest of the day?"
"I just cleaned his shop," Tyler replied, his voice flat. "Then he gave me one silver and told me to go home."
Grone frowned. "Hector? Why would he simply give up on you when you said that? Anyways, since it''s weapons, couldn''t you just help him craft armor?"
Tyler shook his head. "I''m not sure. You see, I get shocked every time I touch the weapons, so I was kind of scared of making that suggestion, thinking I might get shocked touching armor too."
Grone raised an eyebrow. "You get shocked? Huh? Then if I gave you my sword right now and told you to use it, you''d get shocked?"
Tyler nodded hesitantly. "Um, yeah, I think so."
Grone sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Tyler thoughtfully. "We''ll see what we can do to get you another job. Anyways, what did you want to talk about?"
Tyler, feeling a knot of nervousness in his stomach after Grone''s words, took a deep breath. "Grone, I know you don''t want me to do this, but I really, really have to become a hunter."
Grone began, "We talked about this, you don''t have to¡ª" but he was interrupted by Tyler, who said urgently, "Listen!"
Lisa appeared at that moment, carrying plates which she placed on the table. Tyler fell silent, waiting for her to return to the kitchen. Once she was gone, he continued, "I told you, there''s a screen, a panel¡ this thing I call the ''system.'' It told me I have to reach a certain level before it will tell me how to go home. It told me I have to¡" Tyler trailed off, searching for the right words.
"...complete some objectives first," Tyler finished.
"What objectives?" Grone asked, leaning forward.
"That''s just it," Tyler said, frustration creeping into his voice. "It won''t let me know. It said it will reveal them when I reach a certain level."
"Wait, but what level are you talking about?" Grone questioned.
Tyler hesitated, then admitted, "I don''t really know. All I know is that I have to level up and reach a certain level for it to tell me the objectives I have to fulfill. That''s how I''ll know what I have to do in order to return to my own world."
Grone hummed thoughtfully, considering this new information. Then he shook his head. "But with you being a G-Rank, I don''t think you''ll be qualified to be a hunter."
Tyler spoke quickly, "Yes, but I thought about that. You said people in this world level up automatically before they reach eighteen, right? And you also said they can level up through exercise. Since I''m already twenty-one¡ªI can''t level up automatically, or at least I think that''s why I''m not leveling up automatically¡ªso I''ll have to train. You just have to train me so I can level up."
Grone nodded slowly. "Okay, I''ll consider this. We''ll talk about it in the morning. Right now, I don''t think Lisa needs to know." Just then, Lisa returned with a steaming pot of something that smelled delicious¡ªmeat stew, Tyler guessed. Beside the pot, she carried a bowl of something unfamiliar. It looked like rice, but the grains weren''t the usual oblong shape; these were perfectly round, almost like small white pearls.
Even without the meat, Tyler thought he could easily finish the entire bowl of the pearly grains. He began to eat, and then, taking a bite that included both the grains and the meat, the flavors exploded in his mouth. It was absolutely delicious. He ate heartily, a smile slowly spreading across his face, and somehow, this brought a smile to Lisa''s face as well.
"What is this called? It''s really delicious," he said, picking up another spoonful of the pearly grains. Lisa smiled. "Oh, those are called moonseeds." Tyler repeated, "Moonseeds," the name sounding oddly fitting as he looked at the round, white orbs. He continued eating, the delicious taste lingering on his tongue. Grone and his wife then began to converse quietly amongst themselves, their voices a low hum in the background.
After they finished eating, Lisa, surprisingly, gathered the dishes and carried them back to the kitchen to wash them. Tyler turned to Grone. "So, are you going to train me?"
Grone looked at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You''re really impatient, aren''t you? I said we''ll talk about it in the morning. I really have to think about this. Because, kid, being a hunter isn''t easy. And I think you know that."
Tyler started to protest, "Yeah, but¡"
Grone stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. "We''ll talk about it in the morning." He gave Tyler a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading towards his room.
Tyler stood up, muttering, "Oh well." He went over to Heather, who was still struggling with her porridge. He gently took the spoon from her hand, dipped it in the porridge, and said softly, "Say, ''ah.''" To his surprise, she immediately opened her mouth and said, "Ah," in a cute, gurgling way. He fed her the porridge; she was a bit messy, but that''s how babies are, right? After she finished, Tyler went to his room, fell onto his bed, and quickly fell asleep.
In the very early morning, a small whisper ¨C "Hey, hey" ¨C roused Tyler from sleep. A hand shook his shoulder. He woke with a start, startled. Grone stood over him.
"Grone? What are you doing here?" Tyler mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.
Grone grinned. "What do you mean? Didn''t you say you wanted to train? Come on, let''s go. Put on those other clothes you were wearing."
Tyler blinked, confused. Other clothes? Then he remembered. "Oh, the armor," he said, recalling the 27 defense the armor added.
He wished for the red and brown armor and slipped it on. It felt less like armor and more like a comfortable jacket; he understood why the system categorized it as "regular clothing." It was vastly different from the bulky armor worn by hunters; this looked like ordinary clothes. The defense rating, however, was reassuring, and the damage from his previous forest fight was minimal. Satisfied, he stood and followed Grone out of the room.
Tyler followed Grone out of the house. "This way," Grone said, heading towards the marketplace. It was still very early; the sun was on the horizon, but hadn''t fully risen yet. They walked through the marketplace, which was largely deserted except for the occasional patrolling guard. Grone then approached the wagons near the city gate.
He spotted the man whose wagon he and Tyler had ridden in before, the driver who''d transported them from the other base to town. "Hey, George," Grone called out, "So you start work early this morning, huh?"
George looked up, surprised. "Yeah¡ wait, you want to go somewhere?"
Grone nodded. "Yeah."
Tyler stared at the horses, a sudden question forming in his mind. "Wait a damn minute," he muttered, "Did horses always have six legs?" A notification from the system appeared: Horse Level 14 and Horse Level 20. Confusion washed over him. "Wait, these things are still called horses?" he questioned, realizing these were the only creatures that retained their names from his old world, yet looked nothing like the horses he remembered. Horses had four legs, not six! He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and jumped into the wagon. The wagon started moving, the gate opened and closed behind them, and they were out of town.
Tyler looked at Grone. "Where are we going?"
As the town and its castle receded into the distance, Grone said, "You can stop here."
The driver, George, asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Grone confirmed.
George pulled the reins, bringing the wagon to a halt. He then received four copper coins from Grone. "That should be about right, shouldn''t it?" Grone asked.
George nodded. "Yeah, yeah, that''s right. Two copper per person, since you didn''t go far. Anyways, I''m heading back to town. See you later."
The wagon returned to town, and Grone started walking away from the road. The area was open grassland, the trees sparsely scattered¡ªsome were miles apart. The road itself was a mixture of gravel and grass, clearly a well-used track for wagons. Grone walked off the road, then turned to Tyler. "What are you waiting for? Come on." Tyler followed.
After what felt like thirty minutes of walking, Grone stopped, turning to Tyler near a peculiar tree. Its leaves were distinctly square, unlike any Tyler had ever seen in the forest¡ªor anywhere, for that matter. He shouldn''t be surprised, he reminded himself; he was in another world. Square leaves? Triangle leaves wouldn''t even faze him at this point. Grone clapped him on the shoulder. "Okay, kid. This is where we train."
Grone stepped away from Tyler, a wistful look on his face. "This is where I used to train with my former partner. He''s a B-rank hunter now. His name was John, but that''s a story for another time. Right now, I need to teach you the basics of being a hunter. The first thing is basic exercise. So, I want you to do something for me. You see those piles of rocks over there?" Grone gestured towards a collection of rocks.
Tyler was surprised. He hadn''t noticed the piles of rocks before. They were clearly arranged by someone. Grone handed him a leather bag; it was empty, and the leather felt surprisingly stiff. "I want you to put nine of those rocks in this bag," Grone instructed.
Tyler approached the rocks and lifted one. The grey stones were surprisingly heavy. Nine of them? A thought struck him. "If Grone is planning on me carrying these rocks in the bag, he clearly wouldn''t do that, right? These rocks are incredibly heavy."
Tyler hefted the surprisingly heavy bag onto his back. "Okay," Grone said, "Now, the first training exercise." Tyler felt a knot of nervousness tighten in his stomach. "This is just like I thought,"he mused. "What does he want me to do? Does he want me to run around with this bag?"
"You see that tree over there?" Grone asked, pointing to a tree in the distance¡ªa very considerable distance.
Tyler squinted. "Which tree? Wait, isn''t there a closer tree? Maybe I''m missing¡ª"
"That tree," Grone interrupted, pointing again to the distant tree.
"I want you to run from this tree," Grone said, giving a backward thumb to the tree near them, "to that tree." He pointed again to the distant tree, emphasizing the significant distance between the sparsely scattered trees. Tyler looked to the side, spotting a closer tree. "Wait, can''t I run to that tree?"
Grone sighed. "Hey, do you want to train or not?"
"Yeah, but¡" Tyler started.
"No buts," Grone interrupted. "You have to run to that tree."
"Um, okay," Tyler said, "When do I start?"
"You start now," Grone said firmly. "I want you to touch that tree," he pointed to the closer tree, "and then run to that tree," he pointed to the distant one, "and touch it."
Tyler walked towards the nearer tree, even this short distance feeling like a small workout with the heavy bag on his back. Grone watched him. "Okay," Grone said, "I know that tree is far, but even if you feel like stopping, remember, this is the only way you can go home. This is the only way you can go meet the people you know and love again."
The words hit Tyler like a punch to the gut. The people you love again. Grone didn''t know, of course, but Tyler didn''t have a girlfriend, and his family¡ they weren''t exactly close. The only person who might be worried about him was Mike, his roommate.
As Tyler touched the closer tree, Grone gave him a sharp slap on the back. "Go! Go! You must run!"
Tyler started running, the heavy bag bouncing against his back. Grone shouted after him, "If you feel like stopping or slowing down, don''t rest! You can jog, but keep moving!"
Tyler felt the weight of the bag intensely; he was already sweating profusely. The distant tree seemed impossibly far away.
But he had to run. He had to keep running; otherwise, he wouldn''t level up. He ran, breathing heavily, his muscles burning. He almost slowed to a stop, then remembered Grone''s words: if he felt like stopping, at least jog. The vast grassy plain stretched before him, the distant tree still seeming miles away, despite its clear visibility. He ran and ran and ran. Then, a system message popped up: Achievement Unlocked: A Beginner''s Resolve. Agility: +3.
Tyler looked at the message, a smile spreading across his face. His feet felt noticeably lighter, and he knew, in that moment, that this training was truly worth the effort.
Chapter 17: Level Up
Near the edge of town, a substantial building stood, its sturdy frame a blend of dark-stained wood and red brick, the whole structure freshly painted in a crisp white and deep maroon that contrasted sharply. Inside, the Hunter''s Guild hummed with a controlled energy. Hunters, some weary, some eager, occupied tables scattered across the large hall; the air thrummed with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of tankards. Behind long, polished wooden counters, Guild staff moved with practiced efficiency, attending to the various needs of the hunters. One hunter in particular commanded attention. Clad in polished black plate armor, the metal gleaming faintly under the hall''s dim lighting, he sat alone at a table near the back. The armor itself was intricately detailed, with a fearsome dragon''s head, jaws agape in a silent snarl, emblazoned across his chest and back. A simple, yet clearly visible, D-rank necklace hung around his neck. His dark black hair, pulled back in a tight braid, was visible beneath the open neck of his armor.
"Hey, isn''t that someone from the Dragon Guild? What''s he doing here?" one hunter whispered to another, his voice barely audible above the general din.
"The Dragon Guild? Seriously? You mean one of the guys who actually slayed a dragon? They had to change their name, you know? They called themselves that because they managed to slay two dragons. They were the Boar Guild before that," another hunter replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow, to actually see one here¡"
The armored hunter, seemingly oblivious to the hushed whispers, continued to sip his drink, the murmurs of the room washing over him. A wry smile touched his lips. "Damn it," he thought, "if only they knew I got kicked out."
"Fucking Dave," the hunter muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. "Talk about being the Guild Captain. So greedy, so arrogant. He kicked me out because he didn''t like me! Always had a grudge against me. I knew if I ever slipped up, he''d use it as an excuse to get rid of me. Damn it!"
He stood abruptly, the sudden movement pushing his chair back with a scraping sound that cut through the low hum of conversation. All eyes in the immediate vicinity turned to him. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I''m gonna have to return this damn armor on time. Doesn''t matter anyway. I don''t need the Dragon Guild to be successful."
"I''ll form my own guild," he declared, his voice carrying a newfound confidence. "Make my own money. I''ll be the best damn captain there is. I don''t need this freaking Dragon Guild!" He strode out of the guild hall. Stepping into the sunlight, he took a deep breath. "Now, all I need to do is find the right people."
Meanwhile, Tyler¡¯s run had become a grueling struggle. The bag felt exponentially heavier with each step, his legs burning with lactic acid. The tree, a mere thirty steps away, loomed before him, tantalizingly close, yet impossibly distant. Grone''s instructions echoed in his mind¡ªjog if he was tired¡ªbut even walking had become a monumental task. His legs screamed in protest, threatening to buckle beneath him. He was near the tree now, his breath ragged, his vision blurring. With a final surge of willpower, he stretched out a trembling hand, touching the rough bark. Relief washed over him, but his legs gave way, and he collapsed, hugging the tree trunk for support.
A voice startled him¡ªGrone. "Well done," Grone said, a chuckle in his voice. Tyler turned and looked up his back resting against the while sitting down, he blinked away the tears that streamed down his face. "Are you crying?" Grone asked, his amusement evident.
"No, I''m not crying," Tyler insisted, though the tears continued to flow. "It''s... sweat. Got in my eyes. They''re watering."
Grone raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, kid. But hey, you do realize the training''s not over, right? We''re just getting started."
"Do you have any water?" Tyler croaked, his throat parched.
Grone''s response hit him like a punch to the gut. "Oh, I forgot to bring some." Tyler''s mouth felt like sandpaper; he desperately needed water. "What? Why didn''t you bring any if we were going to train?"
"Hey, listen, kid," Grone said, waving a dismissive hand. "I forgot. I never needed water during my training anyway. You''ll have to learn to endure if you really want to level up. Now, I want you to run back to that tree."
Tyler looked at the distant tree Grone indicated¡ªthe one where they''d started, impossibly far away. "Really?" he groaned, but already he was pushing himself to his feet.
"Okay, take a break," Grone said, surprisingly lenient. "Then you''ll run back to that tree."Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Tyler leaned his back against the tree trunk, trying to catch his breath. "How did you get here so fast? It was like you were right behind me the whole time."
Grone chuckled. "Well, you can''t expect a C-rank hunter to not be able to manage something like that, right?"
Tyler sighed, gazing up at the sky, the vastness of it mirroring the seemingly endless task ahead.
After what felt like only a moment, Grone clapped his hands together. "Okay, break''s over. You need to run."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Tyler asked, confused.
"I mean what I said," Grone replied, already starting to walk away. "You need to run, kid. Come on."
Tyler stood, the heavy bag still a lead weight on his back, his legs protesting with every movement. He started running again, each step a battle, each gasp for air a testament to his exhaustion. The urge to quit gnawed at him, but the need to level up, to get home, pushed him onward. He ran and ran and ran, his breath ragged, his muscles screaming. Then, he glanced back.
He saw Grone still standing by the tree he¡¯d just left. He glanced forward, pushing himself onward, and continued his run. He ran until, finally, he reached the tree, collapsing against its trunk, gasping for breath. "I did it," he whispered, "I did it."
He looked down for a moment, then up, and froze. Grone was standing there again, a smirk playing on his lips. "How¡ how are you so fast?" Tyler managed to gasp out.
Grone sighed. "Do I really need to explain myself again? I''m C-rank, remember? Anyway," he said, gesturing to the bag, "take that thing off your back."
Tyler removed the heavy bag, his shoulders slumping with relief. "How does it feel?" Grone asked.
"My back kind of hurts," Tyler admitted, "but I feel¡ lighter."
"That''s how it''s supposed to feel," Grone said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "Okay, put the bag back on. I want you to run to that tree and back three times."
Tyler stared at him, incredulous. "What? I''ll die at this rate!"
Grone shrugged. "Well, who knows? You might actually have to die in order to live a while. Now, come on."
Tyler looked at the distant tree again, the seemingly endless distance mocking him. He sighed, hoisted the bag back onto his shoulders, and muttered, "Oh well."
"I''m not going to level up or rest, am I?" Tyler muttered, more to himself than to Grone, before sprinting towards the tree. Time blurred into a cycle of running and returning, running and returning. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he completed the grueling exercise. Grone told him to take off the bag.
"Now, fifty push-ups," Grone instructed.
Tyler was astonished. He could barely manage twenty. But he started, surprised to find himself pushing past thirty, his shoulders and abdomen burning with the effort. He gritted his teeth, determined to keep going, even as his muscles screamed in protest. Finally, he collapsed, utterly spent, after completing more than he ever thought possible.
Grone simply nodded. "Good. Now, run again."
"What?" Tyler gasped, struggling to catch his breath.
Grone looked him over critically. "Well, you see, Tyler, you''re G-ranked, but you don''t move like one. You don''t look like one either, since G-Ranks are practically babies. Your strength is that of a lower E-rank. Which is why I''m wondering... how far can you go before you break?"
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Before I break? What do you mean? Wait, you actually want to break me?"
Grone chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "No, it''s just a way of saying ''before you get really tired.'' Now, get that bag on your back and run to that tree one more time."
Tyler woke with a gasp, his back resting against the familiar rough bark of the tree. A quiet, cold wind blew across the plain, a welcome coolness against his skin. His eyes fluttered open, focusing slowly on Grone, who stood a short distance away, sword in hand. He wasn''t just practicing; he was engaged in a silent, intense duel with an unseen opponent. His movements were fluid, precise, almost balletic in their grace. He held his sword, perfectly still, his focus intense, like a sniper aiming for a distant target. A text appeared saying James Grone has activated skill: Thrust. Then, with a sudden, explosive movement, Grone thrust his sword forward. A thin, concentrated burst of white wind, like a compressed jet of air from a cannon, shot from the tip of the blade. It was incredibly visible for a brief moment before dissipating into the air.
Tyler saw the burst of wind, and a jolt of recognition shot through him. It was incredibly familiar¡ªthe same type of thrust he''d used when fighting the level 27 slime, but this¡ this was different. More violent. More powerful. A world of difference.
He stood, his muscles protesting with every movement. Grone sheathed his sword in its scabbar. "Ah, you''re awake," Grone said, his voice calm. "I hope you''ve rested, because we''re going straight back to training."
An unexpected smile touched Tyler''s lips. "Yeah, sorry about that."
Grone simply nodded. "That''s right. Now, give me one hundred sit-ups."
"A hundred sit-ups?" Tyler exclaimed, surprised, but he began the exercise nonetheless. Hours bled into each other, a relentless cycle of sit-ups, push-ups, and the torturous runs to the distant tree. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues, Tyler felt his body screaming in protest. He was utterly exhausted; every muscle ached, his body felt like lead. Leaning heavily against the tree, he tried to stand, but failed. "Um, Grone," he groaned, his voice barely a whisper. Grone turned to look at him. "I¡ I don''t think I can move."
"Seriously?" Grone asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yeah," Tyler mumbled, his voice strained. "I¡ I don''t think I can move." His last words felt drawn out, heavy with exhaustion, before his eyes fluttered shut and he slumped against the tree, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Grone chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. Looking down at Tyler, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. The young man reminded him so much of his old friend, the one he''d trained with all those years ago. This very scene¡ªthe setting sun, the exhausted trainee slumped against a tree¡ªmirrored their own training days, their shared dreams of becoming hunters. He carefully lifted Tyler onto his back, and started walking towards the main road.
He waited by the main road, the setting sun casting long shadows. A carriage, drawn by two sturdy horses, appeared from the left, likely coming from the Crossroads base. It stopped beside him. Grone climbed into the back, settling Tyler carefully beside him, before they headed towards the town. The wagon rattled along, finally arriving at the edge of town. Grone carried Tyler the rest of the way to his house, gently laying him down on his bed.
Grone looked down at Tyler, a mixture of satisfaction and something akin to grudging respect in his eyes. "Wow," he murmured, "this kid''s tough. I don''t think I would have pushed myself this hard at his age." He turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Above Tyler''s sleeping form, the familiar system notification appeared, glowing softly in the dim light: Level Up! ... Level Up! ... Level Up! Three times, the message repeated, while he slept.
Chapter 18: Finally an F-Rank
His eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw being the familiar ceiling of his room. He attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his abdomen, a protest from his overworked muscles. Using his arms for leverage, he slowly pushed himself upright. His muscles were stiff, protesting with a dull ache, but strangely, the pain felt¡ good. A testament to the effort he''d exerted. He wondered, amidst the lingering exhaustion, if all that grueling training had at least earned him a level up. Then, the cruel reality of the system''s 25% experience reduction hit him.
He muttered the command to check his status, and the familiar menu shimmered into existence before his eyes:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 7
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 43/43 MP: 39/39
STR: 30 AGI: 24 DEF: 45
STATUS: Slight Exhaustion
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
A surprised gasp escaped his lips. He stared at the screen, his eyes lingering on "LVL: 7". That meant... he''d leveled up. Three times. "Wait," he breathed, the implications dawning on him, "does that mean I leveled up¡ three times?"
He realized each of his stats had increased by 6. It was almost unbelievable; he''d improved this much in a single day. But wait¡ªdidn''t the system cut his experience by 25%? If that was the case, he should have leveled up even more than this. Or was the experience reduction only applied when killing monsters? He wasn''t sure, but he wasn''t complaining. He was glad he''d leveled up at all. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and stretched, the familiar satisfying pops and cracks echoing in the quiet room. Then, as if summoned by thought, his silver sword materialized in his hand.
He examined the silver sword again, turning it over in his hands. "This sword is really sharp," he murmured, "I know it says +6% attack and all that, but that''s not all it does, right?" He looked at the weapon thoughtfully, then tossed it dismissively into the air. With a shimmer, it vanished, reappearing neatly in his inventory. He opened his door and stepped out, finding Grone meticulously packing some wrapped food into a leather bag. "Oh, you''re up," Grone said, looking up with a smile. "Good morning." "Good morning," Tyler replied.
"All that training from yesterday was pretty effective," Tyler commented, flexing his hand.
Grone looked up, questioning. "Huh?"
"I actually leveled up."
"Yeah, I mean, it was pretty obvious," Grone said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You almost died out there."
"No, what I mean is," Tyler clarified, a grin spreading across his face, "I leveled up *three* times."
Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You leveled up three times? Seriously?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed, "I''m a level seven now."
Grone paused, then said thoughtfully, "Huh, you''re just three levels from being an F-rank."
Tyler''s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn''t realized how close he was. "Three levels away from F-rank? Wow, I didn''t know I was that close!"
"Does that mean that an F-rank is level 10?" Tyler asked.
Grone shrugged. "Yes, an F-rank is when you hit level 10... or is it 9? I''m not entirely sure. Are you thinking of training today?"
Tyler considered this, a slight ache lingering in his muscles. "Yes, I''m thinking of training today."
"Okay," Grone said, "but we''re only doing it this morning. I have to go take on some more quests, and you can probably help head out in the shop a little more this afternoon."
Tyler frowned. "What do you mean by ''help''? I can''t really craft anything without the system."
"I can''t even hold a sword I didn''t craft," Tyler pointed out.
Grone nodded, his expression unchanged. "I''m not talking about crafting. You can help him clean, can''t you? You did that before."
Tyler considered this. "All right, I''ll consider it." He then remembered Hector''s request to see his crafting skills. That could be useful.
"Okay, let''s go," Grone said, heading for the door.
Tyler followed Grone out the door and they headed straight for the waiting wagon. Leaving the town behind, they arrived at their familiar training area. Tyler began his routine, hoisting the weighted bag onto his shoulders and setting off towards the distant tree. He started his run, but something felt¡ different. The bag felt lighter, or perhaps he had become stronger, faster. A surge of exhilaration coursed through him as he ran, his pace increasing, a small smile playing on his lips. He realized with a jolt of understanding that this newfound ease was a direct result of his leveling up. He was only level 7, and yet he felt¡ powerful.
He reached the tree and returned, completing five round trips before the familiar burn of exertion returned, the weight of the bag pressing down once more. Grone called out, "Stop! I want you to do two hundred push-ups."
Tyler grinned. "Easy."
"With the bag on your back," Grone added.
Tyler''s grin faltered. "What? You want me to do them with this thing on my back?"
Grone nodded. "It''s going to be hard, but that''s the point, right?"
"Oh, of course," Tyler said, though his tone held a hint of apprehension. He dropped to the ground, the weight of the bag settling heavily on his shoulders. He began the push-ups, a groan escaping his lips with each grueling repetition.
This went on for some time. His hands trembled as he counted, "198... 199..." As he prepared for the two hundredth push-up, his hands shook violently, threatening to give way. With a final surge of effort, however, he managed to complete the two hundredth repetition and collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Grone nodded. "Okay, now it''s time." He unsheathed his sword, the glint of steel catching the sunlight. Tyler, surprised by Grone''s sudden action, watched him expectantly. "Remove the bag and stand up," Grone instructed. Tyler obeyed, effectively removing the heavy bag and rising to his feet.
Grone gestured towards Tyler. "Alright, let''s begin the basics. Put your sword out."
Tyler closed his eyes, focused, and willed the silver sword into his hand. It materialized with a soft shimmer.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How do you do that?"
Tyler explained, "I have this¡ inventory. It''s like a space where I can keep materials and equipment."
Grone considered this, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Is that the way you kept the slime cores?" he asked.
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
"Hmm," Grone said. "Let''s continue. First, the stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight balanced. Imagine a line running from your feet, up through your body, and extending out through the tip of your sword. Maintain that alignment. Don''t hunch your shoulders; keep your back straight but not rigid. Feel the balance."
Grone demonstrated, his movements fluid and precise, a picture of controlled power. He moved with an almost effortless grace, his stance unwavering. He then showed Tyler the basic movements: the draw, the parry, the simple thrust. He emphasized the importance of control, of precision, of maintaining balance and awareness. "Every movement should be deliberate, purposeful. Feel the weight of the sword, become one with it. Don''t just swing; cut." He corrected Tyler''s posture repeatedly, his instructions clear and concise, his corrections gentle but firm. The training session continued, the rhythmic clash of steel against steel filling the air as Grone patiently guided Tyler through the fundamental techniques of swordsmanship.
Tyler, diligently repeating Grone''s instructions, began to find his rhythm. His movements, initially clumsy and hesitant, became smoother, more precise. He started to embody Grone''s teachings, mirroring the instructor''s fluid grace with surprising accuracy. Grone watched, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Tyler was picking it up far faster than he''d anticipated. "Natural talent?" he wondered.
"Tyler," Grone said, interrupting the training, "did you do this kind of thing before you came to this world? Anything related to using a sword?"
Tyler hesitated. "Um, no, not really."
"Oh, alright," Grone said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, don''t let me stop you. Continue. I want you to repeat this until you can execute it perfectly."
Grone nodded, observing Tyler''s increasingly proficient movements. After a while, he declared, "Okay, seems like you''ve got the hang of it." He paused, his expression turning serious. "You see these moves I''ve been showing you? I want you to internalize them, because I''m about to attack you."
"What?" Tyler exclaimed, his surprise evident.
Before Tyler could react, Grone launched himself forward, his sword a blur of motion. The attack was swift and precise, a direct thrust aimed at Tyler''s chest. Tyler, reacting instinctively based on Grone''s earlier instructions, raised his sword in a parry, the silver blade meeting Grone''s with a sharp clang. The force of the impact sent a jolt through Tyler''s arm, but he held his ground. He attempted a counter-attack, a slashing motion aimed at Grone''s side, but Grone deftly sidestepped, his movements fluid and anticipatory. Grone''s next attack was a feint to the left, followed by a rapid thrust towards Tyler''s right flank. Again, Tyler reacted, parrying the blow with a controlled movement, his stance remaining firm. The exchange continued, a rapid dance of steel, with Tyler''s defense becoming increasingly effective as he integrated Grone''s teachings into his instinctive reactions. Though Grone''s attacks were relentless, Tyler managed to block each one, his movements becoming more confident and precise with each passing moment. The clash of steel echoed through the training grounds, a testament to the intensity of their exchange. Grone remained composed, while sweat beaded on Tyler''s brow, a testament to the exertion of the unexpected sparring match. Neither was injured, but the sweat on Tyler''s brow and the exertion in his movements spoke volumes about the intensity of the training.
Tyler breathed heavily, his chest heaving. "It seems I can parry your moves," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Grone shook his head. "It seems you can, but not unless I get serious."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, a little confused.
"Raise your sword, and let''s try again. You''ll see," Grone said, his expression turning serious.
Tyler raised his sword, adopting the stance Grone had taught him. Before he could even fully settle, Grone moved. With a speed that seemed to defy the laws of physics, Grone''s sword flashed out, intercepting Tyler''s weapon with impossible speed. The impact wasn''t a clash of steel, but a precise, almost delicate touch that sent Tyler''s sword spinning from his grasp before he could even register the movement. The weapon landed several feet away, the silence that followed emphasizing the stark difference in their skill. Grone''s movement was a blur of controlled power, a testament to years of honed skill and instinctive combat awareness. The speed and precision were breathtaking.
Tyler was very surprised. One moment his sword was in his hand; the next, it wasn''t. He looked to the side and saw it lying on the ground several feet away. "Whoa," he breathed, "Can you teach me how to do that?"
Grone chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "In time," he said, "You''re still an G-rank. To reach that level of skill, you need to level up, kid."
Grone glanced at the sun, realizing how quickly the time had passed. "Oh," he said, "I almost forgot. I have quests to attend to. You should head back to town."
"But what if I go later?" Tyler asked.
Grone blinked, clearly surprised by the question. "Huh?"
"Well," Tyler explained, "I want to make a few more runs and exercise a bit more before heading back to town. I just have to wait at the main road for any wagon to pass by, right?"
Grone sighed. "Yeah, you know the way, right?"
"As we''re in a training field, I think it''s pretty obvious where I should go," Tyler replied.
Grone reached into his pocket, producing two copper coins. He handed them to Tyler. "Don''t get lost, and don''t lose these," he said before turning and walking away.
Tyler said, "Alright," and waved a hand in farewell. He looked down at the copper coins; they shimmered blue for a moment before vanishing into his inventory. He then retrieved his weighted bag, hoisted it onto his shoulders, and started running towards the tree. He ran and ran, his mind racing. He''d leveled up three times since his last training session; what if he pushed himself even harder this time? He''d been exhausted before, the pain intense, but this time he wanted to push past his limits, to truly exhaust himself. He believed that was the key to leveling up again.
This time, he completed seven round trips before collapsing midway, fainting once more. He awoke twenty minutes later with a gasp, looking around in confusion. He was alone; Grone was gone. He woke again, the bag still heavy on his back, feeling even heavier than before. He decided to jog back to the tree, the familiar burn in his muscles a dull ache. Reaching the tree, he finally removed the bag, leaning against its sturdy trunk, utterly exhausted. "Maybe I need a little break," he mumbled.
His eyelids grew heavy, threatening to close, but then his eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. "No", he thought, "I need to continue training. That''s how I''ll level up. I need to know the system''s objectives." He stood, readjusted the heavy bag on his back, and a new idea sparked in his mind. "What if I try to practice the moves Grone showed me with the sword, while I have this bag on?" he muttered to himself.
The sword shimmered into existence in his hand, and he began. He moved slowly at first, carefully weaving through the steps Grone had taught him, mimicking Grone''s precise footwork and movements. He recalled Grone''s attacks, visualizing them as he fought an imaginary opponent. The bag felt incredibly heavy, slowing his agility, making Grone''s imagined victories feel all too real. But he persisted, pushing through the exhaustion and the weight. Finally, dizziness overwhelmed him. He removed the bag, collapsing onto his back, the ground a welcome relief.
He sat up, a stubborn glint in his eyes. "No," he muttered, his body screaming in protest, "I need to do more." Ignoring the burning in his muscles, he hoisted the bag back onto his shoulders and began another set of push-ups. He pushed himself relentlessly, completing 150 before his arms finally gave out. He removed the bag, his chest heaving. "Maybe this is enough," he thought, but the thought was immediately dismissed. "No," he decided, again. He slung the bag back on and started running towards the tree. He ran until his legs gave way, sending him sprawling to the ground. The pain was intense; his muscles felt like they might snap. He was burning up, a furnace of exertion, but he refused to stop. Using his arms and legs, he scrambled forward, inching closer to the tree, his body screaming in protest with every strained movement. He moved like a soldier in a tunnel, his only focus the distant goal, pushing past the limits of his endurance.
He finally reached the tree, his fingers brushing against its rough bark. "I... I did it," he gasped, the words catching in his throat. The urge to faint, to collapse into blissful unconsciousness, was overwhelming, but he pushed it down. "No," he muttered, "I need to go back." He stood, swaying slightly, and removed the bag, letting the stones spill onto the ground. He knew he couldn''t run anymore. Instead, he shouldered the bag and walked, his steps slow and deliberate, back towards the main road, past the starting point of his grueling exercise.
He reached the main road and sank to the ground as if his legs had simply given out, breathing heavily, the effort of even sitting a monumental task. He waited, his gaze drifting upwards to the sky. His thoughts drifted back home, to his life with Mike. What was Mike doing right now? He wondered. Had anyone even noticed his absence? Were people actively searching for him? He questioned whether Mike was truly worried, truly looking for him. It seemed obvious he should be; it had been days since he vanished from his own world.
A soft, mocking smile touched his lips. "No, Mike shouldn''t look for me," he thought. "After all, I''m just a burden." Him returning to that world wouldn''t accomplish much anyway. He was a burden to his family, a burden to anyone who knew him. His life felt utterly purposeless. What would happen if he returned? Would his life suddenly transform into some movie script? Would he miraculously land a job, achieve success, find a wife, have children, and die peacefully? Would his life finally have meaning, all of a sudden, like some stupid, clich¨¦ movie plot? In reality, nothing ever worked out that way. If he returned, nothing would change. The crushing weight of his uselessness settled deep in his chest, a cold, suffocating despair.
He then thought, "But this is happening in this world, too." He was taking advantage of Grone''s kindness, not intentionally, but because of his own uselessness. A wave of self-reproach washed over him. Maybe he should have trained harder, pushed himself further, fainted a hundred times. Maybe he should have trained until he died. Then, at least, Grone wouldn''t be burdened with this weak, useless person. Grone had a family to care for, a beautiful family, not some random weakling who stumbled into this world. Grone was helping him out of sheer kindness, a kindness Tyler felt he didn''t deserve.
Tyler muttered something barely audible, his gaze fixed on the sky. "I need to level up," he whispered, the words lost to the wind. His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a wagon. He pushed himself to his feet, using his knee for support as his protesting muscles screamed in protest. He signaled the wagon to stop, paid the driver two copper coins, and climbed into the back. This driver was different; his face was unfamiliar. Tyler settled back, resting but remaining vigilant, wary of falling asleep. He couldn''t trust anyone. The wagon rumbled onward, carrying him towards the town, the journey a slow, aching return to a life he wasn''t sure he wanted.
As the wagon rumbled along, Tyler''s thoughts churned. He kept circling the same ideas: the need to level up gnawed at him, yet the purpose of that leveling up remained unclear. Was he leveling up to return to his world, or to stop being a burden on Grone? He couldn''t decide which motivation was stronger; it felt like both were driving him, a tangled, confusing mix of desires.
It was because of this uncertainty¡ªthis feeling that returning to his world wouldn''t solve anything¡ªthat the need to level up intensified. His own world had offered him nothing; this world was insane and strange, yet somehow, it all felt the same. But in this world, he had a system, a path, however strange, toward becoming something more.
He rested, gazing at the sky, until the wagon reached the town and stopped in the bustling marketplace. He climbed down, his muscles protesting with every movement, and headed towards Grone''s house. Walking along the cobblestone path, he glanced towards the crafting shop. He knew Hector was inside, crafting away, and remembered Hector''s Request: to show him his crafting.
He passed the crafting shop, continuing his walk. He felt too drained, too depleted, to engage in conversation, to show Hector his work. He took a left at the three-way path, entering the street where Grone lived. He saw Grone''s house, went inside, and found himself in the familiar sitting room, the dining table, the kitchen opening. Turning left again, he went to his room, collapsed onto the bed, and sank into a deep, sweet unconsciousness.
After what felt like hours, the room now dim with the onset of night, the system appeared again, its message stark and repetitive: Level up! Level up! Level up! Level up!
Following the relentless repetition of Level up, another system message appeared: New skill unlocked.
Chapter 19: The Bashing Hammer
The rising sun cast long shadows as a carriage, resplendent in its red and white livery, with gleaming polished wood and a small, curtained window, moved through Viridia''s main road. Inside, Dean White, the nobleman who ruled their town, sat ramrod straight, his expression unreadable. Two powerful horses, their coats gleaming, pulled the carriage, flanked by guards whose impassive faces reflected years of service. The market, usually a cacophony of sounds and activity, fell strangely silent as the carriage approached. A hush descended, broken only by the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves and the hushed whispers of the onlookers. "It''s Lord Dean White," someone breathed, the words spreading like wildfire. "He''s back." Some faces registered surprise, a mixture of awe and apprehension. Others, however, tightened with barely concealed anger. "He''s back," they thought, the resentment palpable. Though often absent at the kingdom, Lord Dean White''s rule over Veridia was absolute. His infrequent visits were dreaded by many, his arrogance and disregard for the common folk legendary. The simmering discontent beneath the surface of the town''s daily life threatened to boil over with his return.
Four guards marched behind the carriage, four more flanking its sides, a silent, watchful escort. The carriage proceeded straight out of the marketplace, towards the three-way intersection, taking the middle road. Lord Dean White was headed towards his manor, his carriage passing the left turn that led to the street where Grone''s house stood, where Tyler lay sleeping, unaware of the imposing presence now moving through the town.
Tyler''s eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy. He lay on his bed, attempting to sit up, but his muscles screamed in protest. He remained on his back, gazing upward, and muttered the command word, "Status." The information that flooded his mind stole his breath.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 11
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 52/52 MP: 47/47
STR: 38 AGI: 32 DEF: 53
STATUS: Exhaustion
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, .......
Level 11. F-Rank. Finally. Then, overlaying the status display, a new message from the system appeared: Achievement Unlocked: Breaking Point. Agility +5. Strength+5
The system announced, New skill unlocked, followed immediately by another message: View skill. Tyler groaned, a low sound of pain and bewilderment. "View skill," he muttered, the words barely audible. The skill''s name materialized: Weapon Mastery. Another text box appeared, this one announcing: Another stat has been added to the stat menu. Tyler''s confusion deepened; the system had never done this before. He accessed his status again, his eyes widening in surprise at the addition.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 11
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 52/52 MP: 47/47
STR: 43 AGI: 37 DEF: 53
STM: 25
STATUS: Exhaustion
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery
He saw a new stat on his status menu: Stamina (STM). A two-digit number sat beside it. He blinked, a slow, dawning comprehension spreading across his face. "Huh. Stamina," he whispered, tracing the unfamiliar abbreviation with his finger. He noticed something else¡ªall his stats were now two-digit numbers. A quiet smile touched his lips. He''d really done it. He''d improved. He was F-Rank. A wave of relief, so profound it almost brought tears to his eyes, washed over him. He had leveled up. He had broken through.
His attention shifted to his new skill: Weapon Mastery. He addressed the system, "Weapon Mastery, can you give me the skill information?" A text box appeared, displaying the skill''s description: Weapon Mastery allows the user to master the skills of every single weapon with ease.
Turner''s eyes widened. This was incredibly useful. With Weapon Mastery, sword fighting would be a breeze. He could learn any weapon he crafted, mastering its use effortlessly. He attempted to stand, but his muscles protested with a chorus of aches. With considerable effort, he managed to sit upright, then slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He left his room and found Lisa, Grone''s wife, seated at the table in the sitting room, eating porridge. Heather sat beside her.
Lisa''s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, you''re up!" she exclaimed, quickly rising from her chair. Tyler blinked, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah, I''m up," he mumbled. "What happened? What''s wrong?" Lisa looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean, ''what''s wrong''? Yesterday, I tried to wake you for dinner, but you wouldn''t wake up, no matter how much I shook you. I asked Grone what happened, and he just said you needed rest. What happened yesterday? What did you do?" Tyler remembered Grone''s instructions to keep his training a secret from his wife. "I must have overworked myself at the store," he said, offering a vague explanation.
"I thought you couldn''t help at the store," Lisa said, her brow furrowed with concern. Tyler nodded. "Yeah, I''ve been doing a lot of cleaning. You know, for a craftsman''s shop, there''s a lot of dirt. Everything was super dirty. I had to clean the furnaces, clean the swords... I sort of overdid it yesterday, overworked myself," he said. Lisa looked unconvinced but decided not to push him further. Sitting back down, she gestured towards the kitchen. "Go grab some porridge," she said.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Tyler felt a pang of guilt about lying to Lisa, but he went to the kitchen nonetheless. A plate of porridge already sat on the table. He returned to the table, sat down, and began to eat. Lisa watched him for a moment. "You really shouldn''t overwork yourself, you know," she said gently. "It''s not good for your health." Tyler nodded, his mouth full. "I know. I''ll take it easy next time." He continued eating, the warmth of the porridge a small comfort. After finishing, he asked, "Where''s Grone?" "Oh, he left for work already," Lisa replied. "Wow, he''s always going so early," Tyler commented. Lisa smiled. "Yes, but tomorrow''s his day off."
"Oh,Well, I''m going outside," Tyler announced.
Lisa called after him, "Don''t forget to chew your Sylvanstone!"
"Oh, that," Tyler replied, already heading for the door. He mused to himself as he walked, "This stuff tastes weird. I mean, it''s how everyone cleans their teeth, but seriously..." The memory of the Sylvanstone''s texture made him grimace. First, it''s hard like rubber, then it gets softer, almost like gum¡ªyou could almost blow a bubble with it at that stage¡ªbefore finally turning completely liquid. You chew it until all the gunk and cavities are dissolved into that liquid, then spit it out."I always rinse with water afterward to get rid of the sour aftertaste. I really don''t like chewing it," he thought, "but it''s the only way to keep my teeth clean." He reached the kitchen and grabbed a piece of Sylvanstone.
Tyler went outside, grabbed a wooden cup, and filled it with water from a nearby barrel. He then found a secluded spot outside, placed the cup on the ground, and began chewing his Sylvanstone. He chewed and chewed, the rubbery texture gradually softening until it became a liquid. He spat out the resulting liquid, gargled with some of the water, spat that out, and then drank the remaining water. Returning to the kitchen, he placed the cup on the table before heading out again. He decided to visit Hector''s workshop that day and soon reached the marketplace.
Tyler entered Hector''s workshop, the familiar wooden counter immediately catching his eye. Hector wasn''t there, but the usual sights were present: swords hanging on the wall, armor gleaming in the corner, and a barrel tucked away behind the counter. "Hello? Hector, are you there?" Tyler called out. He moved to the back room, finding Hector there, carefully examining a sword, turning it over and over in his hands as if assessing its condition. "Ah, Tyler," Hector said, looking up. "You''re here."
"Yeah, sorry I couldn''t come by yesterday. I was kind of busy," Tyler explained.
Hector waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, it''s okay. Why did you come by today, then?"
Tyler frowned, confused. "What do you mean? You said I should come by the next day to show you my crafting."
"Ah, right. I completely forgot. Anyways, what did you have to show me?" He placed the sword he''d been examining on the anvil. As he spoke, a sword materialized in Tyler''s hand. Hector''s eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you do that?" Hector asked, his gaze fixed on the sword in Tyler''s hand.
"It''s a long story," Tyler replied.
"Tell me," Hector urged.
Tyler pointed the sword towards the ground. "Well, if I collect enough materials, I can put them in this space I call my inventory. It lets me craft weapons¡ªand armor¡ªif I have enough of the right materials. This sword is one of the results. It''s actually one of my skills."
Hector''s eyebrows shot up. "So you really are a craftsman."
Tyler nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "In a way, yeah. Yes, I am."
"Your work is very good," Hector said, "but I don''t think this sword is going to last."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, puzzled.
"It''s very good," Hector clarified, "I''m just saying the durability feels... off. It might endure a few battles, but it won''t last very long. It looks like it''s going to break."
Tyler was confused. He''d thought the sword was perfectly fine. "Can I take a look at it?" he asked. Hector handed him the sword. Tyler examined it carefully, turning it over in his hands. "But it looks fine," he said, still unconvinced.
Hector shook his head. "I guarantee you, that thing isn''t going to last very long."
"Somehow, Hector''s words started to sound convincing. He wasthe experienced blacksmith, the expert in crafting weapons. Tyler nodded. "Well, how do I increase the endurance?"
"Firstly, I need to see how you craft your swords," Hector said. "Show me your process."
Tyler scratched the back of his head. "Well, I don''t have enough materials right now."
Hector waved a hand. "Nah, it''s okay. I''ll give you some materials; I just need to see your method."
"I need about ten iron ores," Tyler said.
Hector raised an eyebrow. "Ten? Seriously?"
"Um, yes," Tyler insisted, "I need ten iron ores."
"I''m sorry, but I can''t really give you ten," Hector said, shaking his head.
"No, um... okay, I think I''ll just use the iron scraps outside. I think they''ll be good enough," Tyler said, slightly embarrassed.
Hector paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Wait... what if I give you some of these ores, and you go get some iron scraps as well?" Then, realization dawned. "Wait... are you telling me you actually crafted that sword using only the iron scraps from the other day?"
Tyler nodded. "Yes."
Hector was genuinely surprised. "That sword''s durability is a bit off, but to think he made something of that caliber with just iron scraps... His ability is exceptional."
Tyler went outside to the pit filled with iron scraps. He selected five pieces, and they vanished into his inventory. Returning inside, he went to the furnace and, from a large zinc bowl sitting nearby, grabbed five more iron ores.
Tyler quietly checked his inventory. He was surprised to see ¡Á22 displayed next to the iron ore entry. He knew he''d only had one before, and he''d just added five from the bowl near the furnace. The inventory was counting the five ores as a larger number. Maybe the ores were compressed, containing far more iron than they appeared to. They were a bit heavier than he expected. That''s why he thought the number was higher than five. He decided to keep quiet about it for now. This was an opportunity. The ores near the furnace were far more plentiful than he''d initially thought. Were they Compressed? He wasn''t sure.
He then checked another inventory slot; it showed "3 Slam Cores." "Craft Bashing Hammer," Tyler commanded. A system message appeared: Craft Item? (Yes/No). "Yes," Tyler replied. Hector, watching, was utterly confused. Tyler looked up, as if observing something invisible to Hector. A text box and loading bar appeared, visible only to Tyler, indicating the item was being crafted. Finally, the system message appeared: Crafting Successful.
Tyler smiled, then checked his inventory. He realized the number of inventory slots had significantly increased; there were many more boxes than before. It must be due to level-ups; each time he leveled, his inventory expanded. He didn''t know the exact amount added per level, but it was noticeable. He spotted a hammer-shaped icon representing the newly crafted item. He said, "Equip item," but a message flashed in red letters: Cannot equip item. User needs to reach level 15 in order for item to be equipped. Tyler''s eyes widened; he was both disappointed and angry. "What do you mean I have to reach level 15?" he muttered. The system remained silent. Hector, completely bewildered, asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Ah, the system says I need to reach level 15 to equip this item," Tyler corrected himself.
Hector frowned. "What do you mean, reach level 15? You can''t be an F-rank still, can you?"
Tyler waved a hand, slightly embarrassed. "Ah, right. I''m rambling. Let''s try crafting something else."
"Crafting something else?" Hector asked. "Then you should give me my iron ores back."
"Oh, yeah, about that..." Tyler hesitated. "I crafted the item, but it seems I can''t get it out of my inventory."
Hector''s gaze narrowed, suspicion evident in his eyes. "What?"
Chapter 20: Pets
"Huh? Wait, I think I can give you your iron ores back," Tyler said, holding out both hands. He''d realized the system showed 22 ores total; he''d used 10 for the hammer, leaving 12. Five shimmering, faintly blue iron ores materialized in his hands before the glow faded, leaving them solid.
Hector was surprised. He picked one up. "Huh? Oh, this is weird. These iron ores... they look different. Better than before."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.
"They don''t look like they used to," Hector said, turning the ore over in his hands. "They''re totally clean." Tyler noticed then that the ores had been slightly glistening before he''d put them in his inventory; they''d been dark and dirty before.
Hector looked at Tyler. "So, you want to craft something else? What can you make?"
Tyler frowned, considering. "I don''t really know. I could try that other sword again, but... I don''t know what else to craft."
Tyler then realized something. The system had once mentioned that to craft an item, he needed to specify the weapon type. He didn''t know what kinds of weapons he could even name, though. Maybe he could experiment. "What kind of weapons are there?" he asked Hector.
Hector replied, "What do you mean? There are a lot of weapons. Swords, spears, axes..."
"Ah, I asked the wrong question," Tyler said. "What I meant was, what kinds of weapons require the least materials?"
"Well, less material..." Hector considered. "Most likely bows, daggers, small knives, things like that."
"Hmm," Tyler murmured, then addressed the system directly. "System, craft copper daggers."
The familiar system message appeared: Craft Item (Yes/No) Tyler felt a wave of relief. He could actually craft this.
Tyler responded, "Yes." A text box with a loading bar appeared, signifying the crafting process. It was surprisingly fast; almost as soon as it began, it was finished. The system announced, Crafting Successful.
"Aha! I crafted an item!" Tyler exclaimed, checking his inventory. He saw a new icon: two small knives crossed in an ''X''.
"Equip item," Tyler commanded. The system message reappeared, its words flashing red: User cannot equip item until level 12. Disappointment and frustration flickered across Tyler''s face. He sighed and said to Hector, "Um, it seems I can''t equip this one either."
Hector''s patience was wearing thin. "Ah, what is wrong with you? Are you actually playing some kind of trick on me?"
"I''m not," Tyler said, then paused, searching for the right words.
Hector interrupted, "You know, Grone said you''re a bit unusual, but I didn''t think you''d be... this unusual."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, confused.
Hector continued, "Okay, how about this? The least you can do is help me clean these iron ores today. You can put them in your inventory¡ªor whatever you call it¡ªsince whenever you take them out again, they''re clean."
"Okay," Tyler said, and began the process. He took iron ores from the zinc bowl near the furnace, placed them in his inventory, then took them out again, handing the cleaned ores to Hector, who placed them in a separate container. They repeated this until all the ores from the bowl had been cleaned and transferred. Hector smiled, a genuine expression of satisfaction. "You did a good job, kid. Do you even know how much money you could get just cleaning these things? It''s a whole lot of work. I think you''ve earned yourself three silver for this." Tyler''s eyes widened. Three silver¡ªthat was equivalent to thirty copper.
"Can I clean your store as well?" Tyler asked.
Hector looked around. "Oh, okay, I guess you can. It''s pretty dirty again, isn''t it? I don''t really clean much."
Hector grabbed a traditional broom and began sweeping and dusting, cleaning the entire store until it sparkled. He gathered the debris¡ªa mix of iron scraps, copper scraps, steel scraps, and other miscellaneous scraps¡ªand tossed it into the pit outside in the back. As he did so, he added some of the iron, copper, and steel scraps to his inventory.
After that, he returned to the store. Hector said, "Oh yeah, here," and handed Tyler three silver coins and three copper coins. Tyler was confused. Why the five copper?
Hector, noticing Tyler''s puzzled expression, explained, "Well, kid, to tell you the truth, the reason I gave you one silver last time was just me being generous. Cleaning is actually only worth three copper."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Really? Well, thank you," Tyler said. "Well, I have to go now."
"Oh, you''re already leaving?" Hector asked.
"Yes," Tyler replied. "I have to go train. I want to level up a bit."
"Are you planning on becoming a hunter?" Hector asked.
"Yes," Tyler said. "I''m planning on becoming a hunter, just like Grone."
"You do know that''s a dangerous job, right?" Hector said, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yes, I know," Tyler replied. "But nonetheless, I need to become a hunter. I just don''t want to do it... I need to do it. Anyways, I''ll see you soon."
Tyler left the store and headed for the bustling marketplace. The air buzzed with activity; the sounds and smells of countless vendors filled his senses. He navigated the crowded stalls, finally stopping at a stall run by an elderly woman. "Hello," he said.
"Hello, young man," the old woman replied. "What would you like to buy? What would you like to have today?"
Tyler pointed to a particular fruit. "I want to have that."
"Ah," the woman said.
"That will be one copper, please," the old lady said. Tyler gave her the coin and took the fruit. It was round, slightly spiky, and hard on the outside. He remembered eating this fruit before; it had been surprisingly juicy and delicious despite its tough exterior. The "spikes" weren''t sharp; more like bumps. He thanked the old woman. "Thank you, son. Come again," she called after him as he left.
He went to the waiting wagons near the wall gate. He spotted the man he and Gron often rode with. "Hey," Tyler said.
The man, leaning against the wagon bench, looked up mid-chew, a piece of straw dangling from his mouth. "Oh, it''s you. You''re here for a ride?"
"Yes," Tyler replied. The man said, "Hop on. Where are you going?"
"Um," Tyler said, "for training. I''m not really sure where it''s called."
The man chuckled. "Ah, you mean you just want to go outside the walls. I remember."
"Oh, right," Tyler said, and climbed onto the wagon. As they rolled out of town, the village shrunk in the distance. Tyler glanced back, noticing the village was completely encircled by a massive grey stone wall that stretched as far as he could see in either direction. He then turned to face forward, focusing on their destination. Before long, they arrived.
Tyler jumped off the wagon and gave the man his fare. "Alright, I''m going back to town now," he said.
"You know what," the man replied, "I''m going to the Crossroads Base." He continued down the main road, heading towards the base instead of returning to town.
Tyler turned and walked back towards their training spot. As he reached the familiar tree, he smacked himself on the forehead. He''d forgotten the leather bag!
"Damn it, how could I forget that?" he muttered. "What am I going to do now? I planned to put the rocks in the bag and then run to the tree, but it seems I can''t do that." He approached the tree, grabbed a spark, and examined its square leaves. "Well, this means I just have to test my current agility without straining myself," he mused, looking at the distant tree. He remembered his runs with the heavy bag. "Let''s see how long it takes me to run there without anything holding me back."
The tree loomed closer than he expected, its familiar shape growing rapidly in his vision. He hadn''t anticipated reaching it so quickly. His breath hitched slightly as he slowed, the last few strides less powerful, more controlled. He leaned against the rough bark, the coolness a welcome contrast to the heat radiating from his skin. He was surprised. His chest heaved, his breathing still ragged, but the exhaustion he anticipated wasn''t there. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, but it wasn''t the drenching perspiration he usually experienced after such exertion. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow: he was stronger, faster than he''d thought. The idea sparked in his mind: ten more times. He needed to level up, to reach that elusive level 12, to equip the items the system teased him with. He glanced back at the starting point, the distance now seeming less daunting, a challenge rather than an insurmountable obstacle. With a renewed surge of adrenaline, he pushed away from the tree, preparing for another run.
He ran back to the starting tree, then to the distant tree, and back again. He repeated this grueling shuttle run, pushing himself further than he''d initially planned, surprising himself by completing far more than ten repetitions. By the nineteenth run, however, exhaustion slammed into him with brutal force. His legs, screaming in protest, threatened to buckle. He fought against the overwhelming fatigue, but his body finally gave way. He stumbled, falling halfway back towards the starting tree, collapsing onto the soft earth. "Ah," he groaned, the sound ragged and strained, "it''s happening again. I''m falling. That''s right. I just gotta break through this breaking point. Break through this limit."
A groan escaped his lips. "That''s how I''ll level up," he muttered, the words laced with grim determination. Despite the burning pain in his legs, he pushed himself upright, the effort a monumental struggle. He began jogging back to the starting tree, the movement slow and deliberate. As he reached it, regret washed over him. He should have saved that fruit; he was parched and his stomach growled. He''d eaten it earlier, on the wagon ride. He lay down on the grass, the coolness a small comfort against the aching muscles. "300," he said to himself, beginning a set of press-ups, his resolve hardening with each repetition.
He pushed through the press-ups, his muscles screaming in protest. He reached two hundred, then his body simply gave out. His chest hit the ground with a thud, his breath coming in ragged gasps. After a moment, he mustered the strength to sit up, leaning his back against the tree trunk. His chest heaved, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He looked at the tree, its sturdy form a silent witness to his exertion. A wave of gratitude washed over him. He thought, "I would have never been able to do any of this without the system, without the logic of this world. If I were my previous self, before coming here, I couldn''t even manage twenty push-ups, let alone run this far, this fast."
Feeling the heat radiating from his skin, he shrugged off his t-shirt. He looked down at his abdomen, a surprised grin spreading across his face. His abs weren''t perfectly defined, not yet sharply visible, but they were definitely there, a testament to his grueling workout. A surge of pride warmed him more than the sun. "Man, I wish Mike could see this right now," he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. "He''d be out of his mind. Science fiction and fantasy movies were his thing. He always told me to exercise. He once said he''d kill for a body like this. But now to think that..." His voice trailed off, the thought left unfinished, the implication hanging heavy in the air.
He realized dwelling on his friend would only distract him from his training. The conflict gnawed at him¡ªthe pull between his old world and this new one. It was a bizarre predicament. Logically, he should return home, but what was there for him? He''d accomplished nothing, achieved nothing of significance. No one would truly miss him except Mike, his best friend. Perhaps Mike would even be better off without him, free from the burden of his presence. But in this world... if he kept training, kept pushing himself like this, maybe, just maybe...
He stood up, a renewed determination hardening his gaze. "Well, that''s enough rest," he declared. "I need to do those sit-ups again, then more push-ups, then another run to the tree. And after that, I''m going to refine those techniques Grone taught me." With that, he dropped to the ground, beginning his sit-ups, his movements precise and powerful. The day blurred into a relentless cycle of training; push-ups, sit-ups, sprints, and the painstaking refinement of his combat techniques. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues, exhaustion finally claimed him. He pulled his shirt and armor back on, the familiar weight a small comfort against the aching muscles.
Tyler returned to the main road and waited, a growing unease settling over him as the sun dipped lower. The lengthening shadows stretched across the road, amplifying his anxiety. If the carriage didn''t come, he''d be stranded here overnight. He shouldn''t have gone to training, he berated himself. He should have just waited for Grone. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching wheels, a rumble growing steadily louder from his left. A wagon emerged from the twilight. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he recognized the driver¡ªthe same man who''d earlier headed towards Crossroads Base, now returning to town.
As the wagon drew closer, Tyler noticed something odd. Besides the six-legged horses pulling the vehicle, a blue bird-like creature sat beside the driver. The system instantly identified it, even from this distance: Craven Level 7. Tyler was astonished. The man was driving, completely unfazed by the creature perched beside him.
The wagon reached him, and the man said, "Ah, so you''re done with your training?" Tyler was surprised by the man''s casual tone, especially considering the creature beside him. "What...what is that thing?" Tyler asked, gesturing towards the bird-like monster. The man scratched his head. "Oh, you mean this? That''s my pet," he said, completely nonchalant. "Yeah, I had a tamer tame it for me. But don''t worry about it, it doesn''t bite. Get in the back." Tyler was utterly bewildered. People here could own monsters as pets? "What the hell is going on?" he muttered to himself.
Chapter 21: False Ranker
The wagon rumbled along, and George, the driver, leaned back, a curious expression on his face. "You don''t really know about pets?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "Where have you been living all this time?"
Tyler shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I... I had some memory loss the other day," he stammered, "so I''m trying to remember everything now."
George raised a skeptical eyebrow, clearly not buying the explanation, but he continued anyway.
"Well, you see, tamers are highly skilled in this world," George said, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing a secret. "They''re the people who have the skill to turn demon god spawn into pets. It''s a sort of binding, you see, binding the creature to the person with the skill. Or they can bind it to someone else. But tamers are rare. I actually got this one from my cousin. He''s a tamer. Because he''s a tamer, they''re always needed in the military or to serve the kingdom."
Tyler then said, "What do you mean by ''binding''?"
George explained, "Binding? It''s like taming a beast, but for you. You see, if a tamer tames a beast, it becomes their servant. But they can also tame the beast and then bind it to you, so the beast will listen to both of you. If the tamer leaves the beast with you, the beast is in your care, just like Java here. That''s what I call him. He''s a Craven, and I think he''s a Level 6."
"Level 7," Tyler corrected him on impulse.
George blinked, surprised. "Excuse me?"
"Did you say he''s a Level 7?" Tyler clarified.
"No, I said he''s a Level 6," George insisted. "Anyway," he continued, changing the subject, "you said you lost your memory. When did that happen?"
"I''m not really sure," Tyler admitted, the lie already feeling heavy on his tongue. "All I know is that''s how I ran into Gron, and that''s how I''m starting to get my memories back." The deception felt painful, a forced act. He''d never been a fan of lying, and the blatant falsehood rankled him. It felt like he was force-feeding himself a bitter pill.
"All right then," George said, "are you planning to be a hunter?"
"Oh, yeah," Tyler replied, surprised by the question. "What made you ask that?"
George shrugged. "Well, you''ve been mentioning training lately. Last time you and Gron were here, and now you''re here by yourself, saying you''re going to training. You trained last time, right?"
Tyler admitted, "Yes, we did."
"That''s why I thought you wanted to become a hunter," George concluded. "What rank are you?"
Tyler hesitated. "F," he said, then quickly corrected himself. He lied again, blurting out, "E." The lie felt slick and uncomfortable in his mouth.
George raised an eyebrow. "You''re rank E, huh?" George said, considering this. "Well, there are more E-rank hunters than any other rank. There are so many E-ranks that it''s very hard to get an E-rank quest and actually complete it. You''ll often find someone completed the quest before you, or there are simply no more quests available. Being an E-rank is really hard; there''s a lot of competition. Are you sure you want to become a hunter?"
Tyler nodded firmly. "Yes. Well, I can become a D-rank, right?"
"Yeah, you can become a D-rank," George agreed, "but with this much competition, becoming a D-rank is going to be pretty hard, though."
"And ranking up with just training alone? Well, that''s almost impossible, especially if you want to go to D-rank," George continued. "Unless you undertake some very rigorous training. And finding that kind of training equipment is mostly found in the big capital, in the kingdom of Aerlion."
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Tyler fell silent, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. He questioned himself. "Is it really going to be that hard to level up?" He''d been relying on his training. The reality of the situation, as George described it, was far more daunting than he''d anticipated.
Tyler then said, "But you say, tamers tame pets for people, but I haven''t seen any pets in town." Returning back to the subject.
George nodded. "Yeah, that''s because they''re prohibited. The new Lord who governs our town doesn''t really allow pets. That''s why I have to let Java go back to the crossroads base, since it can fly. It can stay there for me, but I can''t bring it inside."
George raised his hand, and the craven spread its dark blue wings, landing on his hand. The craven looked like a bizarre mix of chicken and owl, a strange hybrid of the two. Except for its dark blue wings and light blue feathers, it didn''t look particularly monstrous. It was about the size of a chicken, or perhaps a big owl."Return to the crossroads base," George said, and the craven launched itself into the air, flying back in the direction they''d come from, towards the crossroads base. Tyler was surprised; the monster really did understand him. George continued, "plus, just like I said, monsters tamers are rare, so it''s rare to see pets, you know."
Tyler then said, "Oh, Right, I understand it now."
The man replied, "I''m glad you do."
Silence enveloped them as the wagon moved.
They reached the town, passing through the open gate. The carriage pulled up to the marketplace, conveniently located near the entrance. Tyler hopped out, said goodbye to the driver, and headed home. Night had fallen by the time he opened his door, finding Gron already seated in the sitting room, eating. "Hey," Gron greeted him. "Where were you?"
"I went to training, alone," Tyler replied.
"Wow," Grone said, impressed. "Seems like you''re getting better at handling yourself in this world. You didn''t get lost?"
"No," Tyler said. "It''s an open plain; as I said, it''s almost impossible to get lost."
"Okay," Grone replied. Tyler then asked, "Where''s your wife?"
Grone sighed. " Lisa took Heather and went to her mother''s house. Seems like she wanted to go get something but decided to stay the night there."
Tyler sat down beside Gron. "Is there any food left?" he asked.
Gron nodded. "Oh yeah, she left some food for us in that pot. I didn''t take it all. You can go get some."
Tyler saw the pearled grains again, and somehow, they''d become a favorite. The taste was so delicious. He went to the kitchen, put some on his wooden plate, and came back to the sitting room. He started eating. Gron finished before him and went straight to bed. After Tyler finished his meal, he went to his own room and went to bed.
The exhaustion of the day claimed Tyler quickly, and he fell into a deep sleep almost instantly. Meanwhile, across the town, the usual ruckus of the marketplace had subsided into the quiet of the night. In the dimly lit bar, however, a few stragglers remained, their laughter and conversation muted compared to the earlier bustle. The clinking of tankards was less frequent, the rhythmic thud of the bartender''s movements as he drew pints from the barrels now more deliberate. He was currently serving a young woman, a female D-rank hunter in her early twenties with striking silver hair and a scattering of freckles across her nose. She looked up at the bartender with an air of quiet intensity. Then, a sudden commotion near a shadowed corner table sliced through the bar''s relative quiet. A sharp, metallic clink followed by a muffled shout drew the bartender''s attention, and even the low hum of conversation ceased.
A man with shriveled hair, clad in chest plate armor and sporting a prominent A-ranked silver necklace, was holding another man by the collar. "Do you wanna die?" he snarled, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. "I told you to give me some money as penance for your disrespect!"
The man he held struggled, sputtering, "But I don''t have any money!"
The young silver-haired woman, the D-rank hunter, stepped between them. "Sir, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice calm but firm. The dim light of the bar glinted faintly off her D-rank necklace.
The A-rank man''s eyes widened fractionally as he noticed her necklace. He visibly fought to control his anger, his grip on the other man loosening slightly. "This isn''t your business, little girl," he said, his tone still harsh but lacking its previous menace.
The bartender approached cautiously. "Sir," he said, his voice carefully neutral, "if you want to fight, can you please take it outside? I don''t want any trouble in here."
The A-rank man scoffed. "I''m not leaving until this fricking bastard pays me."
The bartender and the young woman exchanged a look. She stepped forward. "How much does he owe you?" she asked, her voice even.
The A-rank man smirked, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "He owes me a silver."
Without a word, the D-rank hunter produced a silver coin from her pocket and offered it to him. "Here," she said.
The A-rank man took the coin, a grudging smile spreading across his face. "Good girl," he said, then turned and strode out of the bar, leaving the tense atmosphere behind him.
The young woman watched the A-rank hunter leave, a frown furrowing her brow. "What kind of A-rank hunter is he?" she wondered. "Why was he shouting at that man for just one silver coin? Is he a false ranker?" Her thoughts were interrupted by the bartender''s voice. "Thank you," he said, his relief palpable. "I don''t know what I would have done."
A smile touched her lips. "You can give me a free beer," she said, her tone light.
The bartender was visibly taken aback; a crimson blush crept up his neck. He stammered, "Ah, yes, of course. I should repay you for your help."
He went behind the counter and poured her a mug of ale; the cup was made of wood. "Aren''t A-rank hunters rare?" he asked, leaning against the bar. "What''s an A-rank hunter doing in a town like this? Shouldn''t A-rank hunters be, I don''t know, running guilds?"
The woman took a long draught of her ale, then with a final gulp, said, "That''s what I was asking myself. If anything, I think he''s a false ranker."
The bartender looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I think he''s a false ranker," she explained.
The bartender, leaning against the counter, said, "A false ranker? Really? But isn''t that illegal? He could get himself into serious trouble."
The girl nodded, swirling the remaining ale in her wooden mug. "Yeah, but you can''t always tell with false rankers. He might be an A-rank, he might not be. Since I don''t have the Uncover skill, I can''t really tell for sure."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "So, why did you help that stranger? You just gave up a silver coin for him."
The girl looked at the now-empty space where the harassed man had been sitting, a wave of disappointment washing over her features. "That," she said quietly, "was actually my uncle."
"Your uncle? You mean that man, Jim, is your uncle?" the bartender asked, surprised.
She nodded, a look of disappointment still etched on her face. "Ah, yeah," she sighed. "I don''t really like talking about this."
"Alright," the bartender said understandingly.
She gulped down the rest of her beer in one go, placed the empty mug on the counter, and said, "Thank you, but I''m going to leave now." She then walked out of the bar.
Meanwhile, Tyler remained asleep. A text box appeared above his head, displaying the message: Level up! Level up!
Chapter 22: The Flow Of Mana
Tyler''s eyes fluttered open, met by the morning light. He sat up, a familiar ache absent from his muscles. He could move, a pleasant surprise, though a slight exhaustion lingered. It wasn''t the intense, crippling soreness he usually felt after training; it seemed his body was adapting, the training becoming progressively easier. He muttered, "Status," and the system''s familiar status menu shimmered into existence before his eyes.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 13
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 56/56 MP: 51/51
STR: 47 AGI: 41 DEF: 57
STM: 29
STATUS: Slight Exhaustion
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery
Tyler was surprised to see he''d leveled up twice, but a wave of slight disappointment followed. It was only two levels this time. The first time he''d trained, he''d gained three levels, then four. He vaguely recalled George mentioning that leveling up through training became progressively harder with each increase in level, and it made sense. This training felt easier than before. Still, he was pleased to have reached level 13. That meant he could finally equip the copper daggers he''d crafted, requiring level 12.
Tyler said, "Equip daggers," and the copper daggers materialized in his hands. He held one in each hand, their surfaces gleaming in the morning light filtering through the window. They looked incredible, the edges razor sharp. He examined them, wondering about their attack power. A small box appeared beside the daggers, displaying the stats: ATK: 44 + 7% Speed. Tyler was surprised. The attack power was surprisingly high.
¡°Plus 7% speed?¡± Tyler murmured to himself, his fingers tracing the elegant curve of a copper dagger¡¯s hilt. The cool metal felt smooth and satisfying beneath his touch. He ran a thumb along the sharpened edge, a thrill of accomplishment coursing through him. They were beautiful, a testament to his burgeoning skills. He examined them closely, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. He was wondering about the daggers'' stats, particularly their attack power. He considered the implications of a direct hit: with his current HP at 56, and the daggers boasting a formidable 44 ATK, would a single strike leave him with only 12 HP, or would it kill him outright? He carefully stored the weapons in his inventory; a soft, light-blue shimmer marked their disappearance.
He threw back his blankets, the crisp morning air a welcome contrast to the warmth of his bed. He stretched languidly, yawning widely, the satisfying crackle of his joints a pleasant sound. A deep sense of accomplishment settled over him, a feeling both unfamiliar and intensely satisfying. It wasn''t just the successful crafting of the daggers; it was the tangible evidence of his progress, his growing strength.
Then, a sharp question pierced the comfortable quiet of the morning. "Wait," he mused. "Does Grone know I''m an F-rank?" He pushed open his bedroom door and stepped into the sitting room.
The sitting room was unusually quiet, lacking the usual morning sounds of Grone''s wife, Lisa, and her baby''s occasional cries. Tyler decided to head to the room on the right, Grone and Lisa''s bedroom ¨C a room he''d never entered before. He raised his hand to knock, and a moment later heard Grone''s muffled groan followed by, "Yeah, I''ll be right out."
Tyler went to sit at the table, waiting for Gron to emerge. Gron eventually appeared, but instead of his usual armor, he was dressed in ordinary clothes¡ªa sight Tyler had never witnessed before. He''d assumed Gron changed into comfortable sleeping attire in his bedroom, a room always kept closed and off-limits to Tyler. "Good morning," Tyler said.
"Good morning," Gron replied, sitting down at the table.
"Oh yeah," Tyler began, "I wanted to tell you something. I''ve reached F-rank," Tyler finished.
Grone sat down at the table. "Oh, you''ve reached F-rank? When did that happen?"
"When I woke up yesterday, I found out I''d leveled up a lot," Tyler explained. "And then, after training yesterday, I woke up this morning and found I''d gained two more levels. I''m actually level 13 now."
Grone looked surprised. Tyler''s leveling up speed was impressive; he''d gained many levels in just a few days of training. But it wasn''t entirely unexpected. He was still just beginning his journey.
"That''s good," Grone said. "The problem is, I don''t think you''re going to level up much with just training anymore."
"Yeah, I figured that out," Tyler replied. "I only gained two levels yesterday. If I train again today, I don''t even know if I''ll level up at all. Maybe one level, or maybe none."
"We could improve your training," Grone offered.
"Really? But how?" Tyler asked, intrigued.
"You just have to carry a bigger bag," Grone stated simply.
"A bigger bag?" Tyler questioned, confused.
"Yeah," Grone confirmed. "Since today''s my day off, I''m going to have to train you again."
"Really? That''s great. I don''t really know what to do anymore. This training was getting easier," Tyler admitted.
"Yeah, so let me change, and then we can head out," Grone said.
"Wait, but your wife isn''t here yet," Tyler pointed out.
"No worries," Grone replied. "I''ll just lock the door and leave the key where she can find it."
Tyler went to clean his teeth and wash his face. When he returned, Grone was ready, and they headed out.
They went straight to the market. Grone carried a much larger leather bag than the one Tyler had used for carrying rocks during his previous training. They reached the waiting wagons by the gate. Grone paid two copper coins, instructing the driver to take them only a short distance outside the town. The driver obliged, and soon they arrived near their usual training area, where they disembarked.
Tyler followed Grone to the training area. Grone tossed the large leather bag to Tyler. "Here, catch," he said. "I want you to put all these stones in this bag, lift it, and then we''ll do what we always do."
Tyler happily began filling the bag, one stone at a time, until all the stones that hadn''t fit in his smaller bag were inside. When he lifted it, he felt a surge of surprise. "Whoa," he breathed. He could actually lift it, but it was incredibly heavy.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"That bag weighs more than 50kg," Grone stated. "I''d estimate around 75, I think."
Tyler, surprised by the weight, managed a, "Oh, um, yeah, that makes sense."
"Okay, it''s time to run," Grone instructed. "I want you to run to that tree and back ten times. I''ll wait here for you."
Tyler''s surprise was evident. Ten times? He let out a sigh, then started running. The heavy bag strained his back, but he persevered. His agility and strength had increased with each level-up, making the task less arduous than it might have been.
He ran, and ran, and ran, each trip to the tree and back a grueling test of endurance. He touched the tree, turned, and ran back to Grone, who sat resting against the tree, calmly cleaning his silver-green sword with a brown cloth. Tyler touched the tree again, and again he ran, the exertion beginning to take its toll. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he completed his tenth run. With a groan, he removed the heavy bag, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thud. Tyler fell to his knees, gasping for breath.
"Ah, you''re done," Grone observed. "So, are you ready to train with the sword?"
Tyler swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think I can do that." He stood up, groaning slightly. A silver sword materialized in his hand.
"Shall we see how far you''ve improved?" Grone asked, adopting a fighting stance. Tyler mirrored the stance Grone had taught him. A system message popped up, satisfying Tyler''s curiosity about Grone''s level. He was astonished to see that Grone was level 54.
Another system message appeared before Tyler: Weapon Mastery Activated. He hadn''t initiated it; it had activated on its own.
The fight began. Grone moved with a deceptive grace, his silver blade a blur. Tyler, initially overwhelmed, found himself reacting instinctively. Grone''s footfalls, usually imperceptible, were now clear in Tyler''s mind, each step telegraphing his opponent''s intent. He blocked a swift downward strike, the impact jarring but not painful. He parried a thrust aimed at his chest, the cold steel of Grone''s sword brushing against his own. He was surprised by his own ability to anticipate Grone''s movements, a skill seemingly granted by the newly activated Weapon Mastery. He was reading Grone like an open book, predicting his attacks with an uncanny accuracy.
Grone, however, was far more experienced. He feinted left, then right, drawing Tyler off balance. With a sudden, powerful lunge, Grone''s blade connected with Tyler''s, not with the force of a blow, but with a precise, calculated strike that sent Tyler''s sword spinning from his grasp. It clattered harmlessly to the ground. Grone stood poised, his sword held loosely at his side, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Tyler stared, breathless but unharmed, marveling at his own newfound skills and the superior mastery of his trainer.
"You''ve gotten really good at this," Grone commented. "Have you been training this well while I wasn''t around?"
"Yeah, I kind of have," Tyler replied. "It''s probably because of a new skill I got."
"Huh?" Grone questioned, intrigued.
"I have a skill called Weapon Mastery," Tyler explained. "It seems I can master any weapon I touch simply by training with it. It makes mastering techniques much easier."
"When did you get that skill?" Grone asked.
"Yesterday, I think," Tyler replied.
"Huh, that''s not a bad skill," Grone mused. "It''s not the first time I''ve heard of it. Some people have it, but it''s rare. You''re pretty lucky."
Tyler''s face crimsoned slightly. He wasn''t used to being called lucky; he didn''t believe he had luck. "I''m alright," he mumbled.
"Okay, pick up your sword, and let''s do this again," Grone said. "I''m going to teach you the next step of basic sword training, alright?"
"Of course," Tyler replied. Surprisingly, the sword that had fallen to the ground vanished and reappeared in his hand.
"That''s a pretty neat trick you got there," Grone said, impressed by Tyler''s ability to instantly acquire his sword. "It could be very useful in many situations."
"Yeah," Tyler agreed.
"Right, you''ve grasped the basics," Grone said, sheathing his sword. "But parrying... that''s the real test. It''s not just about blocking; it''s about controlling the fight. Let me show you."
He drew his sword again, the silver gleaming in the sunlight. "Watch closely." He moved with fluid grace, demonstrating a series of parries ¨C a high parry deflecting a downward strike, a low parry redirecting an upward thrust, a counter-parry turning an attack against the attacker. With each movement, he emphasized the importance of a strong grip. "See this? A firm grip, not tense, but firm. It''s the foundation of everything. A weak grip, and the blade twists; you lose control, you''re open."
He paused, sheathing his sword. "Now, you try. I''ll attack, you parry. Focus on the grip, your stance, anticipating my movements. Don''t just react; predict."
Grone resumed his stance, his eyes sharp and assessing. "Ready?" He launched a series of attacks ¨C a swift thrust, a deceptive feint, a powerful overhead slash. Tyler, initially overwhelmed, struggled. His parries were weak, his timing off. Grone''s blade found openings, forcing Tyler to retreat.
Grone stopped, sheathing his sword. "Again. This time, focus on the grip. Feel the weight of the blade. Let your body move as one unit. Anticipate, don''t react."
The second attempt showed improvement. Tyler managed a few successful parries but still lacked precision and control. Grone continued coaching, correcting his stance, grip, timing, until, on the third attempt, Tyler found his rhythm. He parried Grone''s attacks with increasing confidence, his movements smoother, more precise. A hint of a smile played on Grone''s lips. "Much better. Now we''re getting somewhere."
Tyler examined his silver iron sword. The blade showed signs of wear; not cracked, but battered, its endurance clearly diminishing. Hector had been right; this sword wasn''t built for extended use. He wondered if his daggers would have similar affected.
"So, can we continue?" Tyler asked Grone.
"Yeah," Grone replied. "I''ll teach you a bit more."
"Grone, I was wondering... how much are you holding back?" Tyler asked, a hesitant note in his voice.
Grone paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Tyler explained, "your rank is so much higher than mine. I can tell I''m picking up some of your moves and techniques, but I''m curious how much you''re actually holding back."
Grone scratched his head. "Don''t worry about that. Honestly, if I used my full strength against someone at your level right now, you''d probably be completely demotivated. I wouldn''t want to go there. Just focus on your training, focus on becoming stronger."
"Okay, are you going to teach me more about parrying?" Tyler asked.
"You''d be surprised," Grone replied, "but I''ve taught you almost everything about basic parrying, and you''ve got it down. It''s probably because of that skill you have. What was it called again? Ah yes, Weapon Mastery."
"Yeah," Tyler said.
"That''s a very reliable skill," Grone commented. "You''re adapting to the sword at an incredible rate. Learning to parry effectively usually takes weeks, maybe even a month. You did it in a day."
Tyler was surprised. To him, it had felt like a struggle at first, but it had become progressively easier with each attempt. The more he practiced, the more natural the movements felt.
"Okay, what I''m about to teach you might be difficult," Grone said, "but bear with me. Let''s both sit down." He settled into the lotus position. "Now you do the same."
Tyler comfortably assumed the lotus position, mirroring Grone''s posture.
"Good," Grone said. "Now, I''m going to teach you how to channel your mana."
Tyler''s curiosity was piqued. He''d always seen his MP in his status menu, but it never seemed to decrease, and he had no idea how to actually use it.
Grone instructed, "Close your eyes. Focus on the feeling of your body. Feel every muscle, every sensation. Feel everything about your physical form."
Tyler closed his eyes, but it wasn''t easy. Grone continued, "If you close your eyes, do not think about anything else. Do not reminisce. Just focus on your body. Think about it; focus your whole mind and thoughts on the feeling of your body. I want you to feel the center of your chest and concentrate there."
Tyler concentrated, but his mind wandered; it was harder than he anticipated to completely still his thoughts.
Then, a soft, rhythmic thump, like a heartbeat, resonated within him. It was a strange, unfamiliar sensation. Tyler gasped, quickly standing up.
Grone, startled, asked, "Oh, what''s wrong?"
"Um, I don''t know," Tyler said, breathless. "What the hell was that just now?"
Grone smiled knowingly. "That''s what we call mana. I told you I''d teach you how to channel it. Don''t worry about it. Just sit down."
Tyler looked at Grone for a moment, then slowly sat back down in the lotus position, closing his eyes, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity swirling within him.
He soon found himself focusing on his whole body again, then the center of his chest, and then he felt it again¡ªthat strange, unfamiliar sensation. It was completely alien, yet somehow familiar. He couldn''t quite describe it; it felt like a gas, a fire, but not a burning fire¡ªno ache, no pain. It was intangible, moving within him, like a strange, symbiotic parasite, something both alien and integral to his being. It felt like energy, pure and potent, yet he couldn''t fully grasp its nature. The sensation itself, not just the rhythm, was entirely new to him.
Grone asked, "Do you feel it?"
"Yeah," Tyler replied.
"Okay," Grone said. "That, as I told you earlier, we call mana. It''s a power inherent to you. It''s both physical and not physical at the same time. It''s a part of your body, like your hand or your eye. But at the same time, it''s like the air you breathe¡ªit enters your body, becomes a part of you for a time, and then leaves. Mana is similar; it''s within you, a part of you, yet also something you can control and manipulate."
"I understand," Tyler said, his eyes still closed.
"Good," Grone said. "Now, I want you to learn to control that mana. You can feel it, right? You can feel it moving within you, but it''s stagnant. I want you to help that mana flow. I want you to guide it."
"Um, okay, but how do I do that?" Tyler asked.
"Just like a baby learns to control its limbs and hands," Grone explained, "I want you to learn to control your mana as if you were a newborn, learning to move for the first time. Feel it, guide it, let it flow."
Tyler began to feel the mana differently now. It felt like a fire within him, but a fire he could control, guiding its flow like wind guiding flames. He felt it begin to spread, enveloping his abdomen. His breathing became unstable.
Grone''s voice was calm and reassuring. "You should learn to relax while doing this. Relax; it''s your first time."
"Okay, I want you to let this mana envelop your whole body. Can you do that?" Grone asked.
"I can try," Tyler replied, his eyes remaining closed.
He focused, and felt the mana surge outwards, spreading from his abdomen to his chest, then down through his legs and into his feet. He felt it flow into his arms, up to his shoulders, and finally, into his head, a wave of warmth washing over his mind. It was an indescribable feeling, strangely peaceful. Then, a text box appeared before his eyes, causing him to open them in surprise.
The system message displayed: Achievement Unlocked: Inner Peace: Mana +5
Tyler''s eyes gleamed a faint blue for a moment as his body was enveloped in his mana aura. Grone opened his eyes and said, "I think you did it, kid. Now you know how to channel your mana."
Tyler looked at his hands. "So this is mana," he murmured, feeling the energy within him, though it wasn''t visibly emanating from his body. His eye color returned to normal; Grone apparently hadn''t noticed the brief change. Looking at his hands again, Tyler said, "This feels incredible."
Chapter 23: Skill Taken
Grone stood, stretching. "I''d like to teach you more about mana, but that''s all for today. Trying to teach you everything at once would likely just confuse you. So, it''s time to go home."
Tyler stood as well. "Okay, then." He picked up the bag of stones, emptied the stones into his pocket, and then took the empty bag with him. They both then headed towards the main road.
As they walked, Tyler said, "Oh, I''ve been meaning to ask you something."
Grone glanced at Tyler as they continued walking. "What is it?"
"It''s about pets," Tyler continued. "When I was training here alone, I went to the main road and climbed onto George''s wagon. He had a blue craven with him. He said it was his pet and told me about tamers and how people can have pets. Is all of that true?"
Grone said, "If he told you that tamers are rare and pets are rare as well, then it''s true. Tamers can tame demon God''s spawns and make them do as they command. They can also bind the pet to another person. It''s not really a pet, to be precise. We just call them pets, but it''s more like a slave. You can treat it as a pet, though. It will do anything you say. Pets can retaliate, but these ''pets''¡ªthese demonic spawns¡ªcan''t. We call them pets, but they''re essentially slaves that can''t fight back."
"So they can''t hurt people?" Tyler asked.
Grone shook his head. "No, they can''t hurt the person they''re bound to, or the tamer who tamed them. Think of it like this: a tamer might tame a creature like a hex horn. That hex horn will obey the tamer''s commands. If the tamer binds the hex horn to another person, it will obey both the tamer''s commands and that person''s commands. If that person tells the hex horn to attack someone else, it will, provided the tamer doesn''t give a conflicting command. But if that person tells it to attack the tamer, it won''t. It can hurt others, but not its tamer or the person it''s bound to. And tamers can only bind their pets to one person at a time."
"Oh," Tyler said, "Yeah, that''s how tamers work. Oh, and tamers can fight too, you know. Just so you know, being a tamer doesn''t mean they rely on their creatures. Some tamers are incredibly skilled fighters in their own right, though they''re rare. Most people who meet tamers ask them to bind a creature¡ªor pet, as we call them¡ªto them, and they pay the tamer for the service. If I met a tamer, I''d probably do the same."
"Oh," Tyler said, "Yeah, that''s how tamers work. Oh, and tamers can fight too, you know. Just so you know, being a tamer doesn''t mean they rely on their creatures. Some tamers are incredibly skilled fighters in their own right, though they''re rare. Most people who meet tamers ask them to bind a creature¡ªor pet, as we call them¡ªto them, and they pay the tamer for the service. If I met a tamer, I''d probably do the same."
Silence fell between them as they walked. Tyler''s stomach rumbled; he was hungry. His tongue, however, craved something sweet. He thought about going back to buy an apple. After all, it was the only fruit here that was familiar to him, a taste from his old world. All the other fruits were alien, but the apple felt like home. He even remembered Grone using apples as examples when explaining the local currency.
They reached the main road and waited. After some time, a carriage came from the town, passing them by. The driver was a stranger, and the carriage held four passengers: what looked like two hunters, and two others who weren''t armed or in armor. They simply passed through. Tyler and Grone waited, and waited. It felt like two hours passed before the same carriage reappeared, heading back towards town. Finally, Tyler said, "Why did it taking so long for another wagon to come along?"
Stolen novel; please report.
Grone said, "Well, you saw that I wasn''t working today, right? Most people don''t work today. It''s the anniversary of the Demon God''s defeat. People celebrate, and it''s not a typical workday. It used to be a much bigger celebration, but it''s toned down over the years."
Tyler said, "Oh, so that''s why it''s taking so long."
Just then, a wagon stopped beside them. Tyler and Grone climbed in. Grone paid the driver four copper coins.
"I could have paid," Tyler said. "I have the money."
Grone shook his head. "No, it''s okay. You should save that money for when you really need it later." They settled onto the bench of the wagon. Tyler then asked, "What level do I need to reach to become an E-rank hunter?"
Grone said, "You need to reach level 22."
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Level 22? To become an E-Rank?"
Grone said, "Don''t worry, level 22 is actually the easiest level to reach. As I told you, the higher you rank, the harder it gets to level up. It''s easier if you fight stronger, higher-level monsters, or train so intensely you nearly kill yourself every time... but, as I said, it''s not that easy."
Tyler started wondering how much he''d level up this time, if at all. He asked Grone, "Hey, what happens if a person kills another person''s pet? Will they be able to level up from that?"
Grone looked at Tyler with a suspicious eye. "Yes, they can. Are you thinking of killing someone''s pet or something?"
Tyler raised his hands defensively. "No, no! I''m just wondering if the rules are the same."
Grone sighed. "A monster is still a monster, even if it''s someone''s pet. It doesn''t change their origin."
The wagon reached town, and they disembarked, walking to the market before heading home. The sun was setting as Grone opened his door; it was unlocked, as expected. His wife was inside, cooking; the aroma was delicious. Tyler also entered, greeting Grone''s wife. She returned the greeting and asked, "Where were the two of you?"
Grone coughed, then said, "Oh, we were at Hector''s. Hector and Adam were crafting some weapons¡ªwell, Adam doesn''t really know how to craft, he was just helping¡ªand I was helping Hector too. We spent the day there. I wanted to see how Adam was doing with his job." Lisa, Grone''s wife, smiled. She still harbored some suspicion but let it go. "Well, okay," she said. "I hope it went well. Anyway, Dinner is just getting ready"
"Yeah, okay," Tyler said, heading into the kitchen. He went to a barrel in the corner, took a wooden cup, and dipped it into the barrel, drawing out fresh water. He drank deeply, three cups in total before he was satisfied. He was very thirsty and tired. "I''ll be resting in that room," he announced.
Lisa came and sat at the table beside Grone, her face etched with concern. Grone asked, "What''s wrong?"
She sighed. "Were you really just helping Hector today?"
Grone replied, "Yeah, we were just helping Hector."
"You weren''t training him or anything, right?" she pressed. "I thought we both agreed that Tyler shouldn''t become a hunter. It''s too dangerous for him. He could die."
Grone said, "I know, that''s why we were just at Hector''s today."
Lisa felt a surge of anger, but she forced herself to calm down. It was so obvious her husband was lying; she could always see it in his face. And he knew she knew, yet he still lied. She sighed. "Okay," she said, "but please¡ I know you may not be training him, but if you''re both planning on Tyler becoming a hunter, please take care of him. And I don''t want you to be in any danger either, understand?"
Grone chuckled softly. "Alright, I''ll do just that."
Tyler sat in a lotus position on his bed, training. He felt his mana; this time, it was already spread throughout his body. He didn''t need to guide or direct its flow; it was simply there. It felt strange, yet incredible. It wasn''t overwhelming power, but it was his power, a intangible part of him. He sighed, shifting to a more comfortable sleeping position. "I wonder how much I''m going to level up," he murmured before falling asleep.
Meanwhile, in the other room, Grone''s wife stood and returned to her cooking. Once dinner was ready, she served it, then went to Tyler''s room and knocked. She opened the door to find him fast asleep. "Hey, Tyler," she said, gently shaking him awake. Tyler''s eyes fluttered open; he saw Grone''s wife standing over him. He started to speak, but she interrupted. "Dinner''s ready. I''ve served it." She then returned to the sitting room.
Tyler wondered if Grone''s wife had been angry with him. Then he looked up and saw a system notification: "Level up. Level up." Tyler was surprised. He''d expected one level, or none at all, but two? Was this luck? he wondered. He muttered, "Status," and his stats appeared before him. "Does that mean...?"
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 15
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 60/60 MP: 60/60
STR: 51 AGI: 45 DEF: 61
STM: 33
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery
Tyler quickly said, "Equip Bashing Hammer," and the weapon materialized in his hand. It looked incredible. The hilt was long, the length of his arm, and the hammerhead was silver and rectangular. The edges had small, blunt spikes, sharp enough to look menacing but not sharp enough to cut. In the center of the hammerhead was a symbol: three concentric circles.
Tyler asked himself, "What''s so special about this hammer?" A system text box appeared beside the hammer, reading: `Attack: 67`. Before Tyler could fully register his surprise, another system message appeared, nearly giving him a heart attack: `User can now use skill: Bash.` Tyler exclaimed, "Wait, isn''t that the skill those slimes use?"
Chapter 24: First Bash
Tyler checked his status menu again. He saw that the Bash skill was now listed among his other abilities, its mana cost displayed as 15. "So that''s where I use mana," he murmured.
Tyler put the Bashing Hammer away in his inventory; the weapon shimmering with blue light before vanishing. He left his room and entered the sitting room where Grone and Lisa sat eating. He quietly joined them, and they resumed their meal in silence. He and Grone didn''t exchange a word. Grone and his wife began discussing Lisa''s recent visit to her mother, a conversation Tyler largely ignored.
After dinner, Tyler retired to his room to rest. He lay in bed, his thoughts turning to the Bash skill. He wasn''t sure how it worked. Would he use it like the slimes did? Or was the hammer itself the key? The uncertainty made him anxious, delaying his sleep later than usual.
He eventually fell asleep, but woke early as usual, intending to go to the market. Entering the sitting room, he found it empty. He considered knocking on Grone and Lisa''s bedroom door, but decided against it. "Nah, I''ll let them be," he thought. "After all, I''ve got to learn how to do things myself around here." He set off alone, his leather training bag slung over his shoulder, heading for the marketplace.
He went straight to the waiting wagons and found four of them. Choosing one, he told the driver he wanted to leave town. Tyler paid him with two copper coins, and the driver, with a disappointed expression, returned to town. Tyler then headed towards the training grounds. He knew Grone would be at work today, so he didn''t want to bother him. After all, Grone needed to level up too.
Reaching his usual training tree, he removed his leather bag and repacked the training stones. After securing them, he began his press-ups. "One, two, three..." he counted, already knowing he aimed for four hundred. By three hundred, his chest and abdomen burned, his shoulders screaming in protest. But he pushed on, "301, 302..." groaning with exertion. Finally, completing his four hundred and first press-up, he collapsed onto the ground with a relieved sigh, his chest hitting the earth.
Tyler removed his bag and sat in a lotus position, beginning his meditation. He focused on sensing his mana. He knew there was more to it, more potential. He recalled touching the orb; they''d said he couldn''t properly channel his mana. That wasn''t entirely true; the orb hadn''t seemed to require mana channeling. But what if he could learn to truly channel it? What then?
Standing, Tyler remembered the Bashing Hammer. He wanted to test the skill. Summoning it from his inventory, the hammer materialized in his hand. The weight was substantial; the head was large, a bit bigger than a standard brick. He pondered how to use the skill.
He felt mana coursing through his body, tingling at his fingertips. "I wonder if..." he murmured, attempting to channel mana into the hammer. It felt like a part of him, yet also something he could release, like breath or liquid. He felt it then¡ªthe mana flowing from his hand, extending into the hammer. It was almost visible, like an incredibly faint blue flame, though he couldn''t see it directly.
He swung, turning to strike the tree behind him. The impact was brutal; the sound a deep thwack that vibrated through Tyler''s arms. The tree shuddered, square leaves fluttering momentarily before settling back into place, a deep gouge now marring its bark. Tyler realized he hadn''t used the Bash skill. How did it work? He concentrated, focusing mana into the hammer, his eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them, a faint blue light flashed in his pupils for a second. He struck the tree again. The system message appeared: Bash skill activated. This time, the impact was different. It wasn''t just a blow; it was an explosion of force. The sound was deafening, a sharp crack followed by the splintering of wood. The tree, its square leaves momentarily askew, buckled and fell with a heavy thud.
He was surprised. Part of the bark seemed to be clinging on, holding the rest of the tree¡ªwhich was completely bent over, branches scraping the ground like a heavy cloth draped downwards. It was astonishing. He checked his status menu; his mana had decreased by fifteen points.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 15
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 60/60 MP: 45/60
STR: 49 AGI: 42 DEF: 61
STM: 33
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Bash( Mana consumption 15)
He noticed his agility had dropped by three points and his strength by two. Could it be because he wasn''t equipped with his iron sword or copper daggers? He hadn''t considered how they affected his stats. He realized he could only equip one item at a time that impacted his stats. The Bashing Hammer, it seemed, didn''t boost any of his attributes. But it had a tremendous advantage: he could use the slime skill.
It was incredible. He put his bashing hammer back into his inventory, and it disappeared from his hands. He carried his rock-filled bag and began his run, back and forth between the training tree and his chosen landmark. Thirty repetitions was the plan; he needed to be utterly exhausted to maximize his training. By the thirtieth run, his back screamed in protest. He dropped the bag, resting his back on the ground, staring up at the sky, breathing heavily.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
He looked at the sun, then spotted something brown moving in the sky. "What a beautiful bird," he murmured, then paused. "Wait, what?" Since arriving in this world, he''d seen almost no birds, except for that one dragon-like creature and the craven. Was this normal? The bird seemed to be circling something. Then, with terrifying speed, it swooped down from the sky. Alarmed, Tyler scrambled to his feet.
The system announced, Elin: level 25, as the creature hurtled towards him, its wings making a sound like an eagle''s cry. Tyler materialized his iron sword, his heart pounding. A level 25 monster in a non-monster zone? He had no time for questions; it was time to prepare for an attack.
The system announced, Elin has used skill: Cyclone Wings. The Elin, poised to unleash its own skill, was met by Tyler, who had assumed the defensive stance Grone had taught him, ready to parry whatever attack came. As the Elin closed the distance, its wings slapped down.
A sudden, powerful gust of wind¡ªunlike anything he''d ever experienced¡ªrushed towards him. This wind wasn''t just air; it was visible, a swirling, curved blade of air aimed directly at his heart. The air itself seemed to crackle with raw power. He raised his sword to parry, but the moment steel met this unnatural wind, a sharp cling echoed as his blade shattered. The force of the blow slammed into him, a physical impact that sent him spinning end over end through the air. Before he even hit the ground, before the world stopped spinning, he materialized his two copper daggers in his hands, their cold metal a stark contrast to the burning pain in his stomach. He landed hard, the breath knocked from his lungs, but even as the wind died down, the ringing in his ears persisted. He pushed himself up, daggers held ready.
He sprinted towards the Elin, its massive wings beating the air into a frenzy. The system message :Weapon Master activated blazed briefly in his vision, instantly dismissed. He launched the first copper dagger, a blur of bronze against the swirling wind, aiming for a gap between the creature''s powerful wings. The Elin, however, anticipated the attack. As the dagger approached, a sudden burst of air erupted from its wings, a focused gust that deflected the dagger with a sharp *fshhh*, sending it skittering harmlessly across the ground. Frustration fueled his next throw. This time, he used a deceptive underhand toss, aiming for the Elin''s exposed flank. The dagger whistled through the air, only to meet another precisely aimed burst of air from the Elin''s wings¡ªa resounding bwush¡ªsending the dagger flying. He knew he couldn''t win with daggers. The Elin was using its wing-generated gusts to counter his attacks, not simply batting them aside. Leaping into the air, a roar building in his chest, he materialized the Bashing Hammer, its weight a comforting presence in his hands. As the Elin prepared another Cyclone Wings attack, the air itself seeming to distort around the creature''s wings, Tyler activated the Bash skill. He met the oncoming, visible vortex of wind with a mighty swing, the hammer connecting with a solid, visceral thud, a deep impact that sent a shockwave through his body and a powerful gust buffeted him. The force of the blow, however, was immense; he felt the wind recoil, a tangible resistance against his attack.
The attack vanished, but Tyler, having already launched himself upward, continued his momentum. With a roar, he swung the Bashing Hammer in a powerful arc, the iron head connecting with a resounding thwack against the Elin''s chest. The system message, "Bash skill activated," appeared as a blue screen flashed before his eyes. A thunderous thud echoed as the hammer met its mark. The force of the blow sent the Elin sprawling backward and downwards, crashing heavily to the ground.
Tyler, too, lost his balance from the force of the blow, hitting the ground hard with his chest. He pushed himself up, breathing heavily, his body screaming in protest. He had expended 45 mana. He approached the fallen Elin, its body a massive, oddly shaped form on the ground. It was brown, with a white chest, and roughly the size of a large kite¡ªthough far more menacing. What was truly unsettling, however, were its three eyes: one in the center of its forehead, with two smaller eyes positioned on either side.
The Elin shuddered, its two legs trembling slightly. Green blood flowed from its beak, staining the ground. Tyler looked down at the creature. "You''re in pain, huh?" he murmured, a copper dagger materializing in his hand. "I''ll just finish you off," he said, and plunged the dagger into the Elin''s neck. A strange, cackling sound escaped the creature before it went still. Then, something astonishing happened. Tyler''s system messages indicated that he had leveled up.
A message appeared beside the Elin''s corpse: Extract. Tyler didn''t hesitate. "Yes, extract," he replied. The system confirmed, Extraction successful. His inventory automatically opened, revealing a new icon: a feather. The number "60" sat beside it. Sixty feathers. He looked down at the Elin''s now nearly bare body; the missing feathers were obvious. Then, with a final shimmer, the creature vanished completely.
Tyler sighed, a long, weary sound. "I don''t think I can train anymore," he muttered, glancing around the now unsettlingly quiet training grounds. "This place has become too dangerous. What if another monster shows up?" He decided it was time to go. He retrieved his leather bag, emptying its contents¡ªthe harvested stones¡ªonto the ground. Taking the now-empty bag, he headed towards the main road. As he walked, the image of his battle with the Elin replayed in his mind. He smiled, a slow, self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. He was stronger than he''d ever been.
Reaching the main road, Tyler waited. A wagon appeared, approaching swiftly from the direction of the Crossroads base. "That was fast," he mused, a prickle of unease rising within him. It was unusual for a wagon to appear so suddenly. But something about it felt wrong. Two men sat on the back, their faces clearly visible in the daylight. Both bore numerous scars, and their expressions were hard, menacing. He wasn''t sure he should trust them, but the lure of a ride home was too strong to resist. He climbed aboard.
The ride was silent and tense, Tyler''s heart drumming a nervous rhythm against his ribs. He then noticed a small smear of the Elin''s green blood on his leg. The man sitting behind him saw it too. He turned, his gaze lingering on the stain. His voice, when he spoke, was a low groan, deep and unsettling. "Are you a hunter?"
Tyler stammered, "Um, no, I''m not."
The man''s eyes narrowed. "Oh? Then where did you get that blood?"
Tyler swallowed hard. "I... I ran into a monster recently. I barely survived, but I managed to kill it."
"What? You ran into a monster out here?" The man''s voice was laced with disbelief.
"Yes," Tyler replied, "I ran into a monster. I was surprised too, but I was left with no choice but to kill it since it attacked me."
"Did you hear that?" the man said, turning to his companion. "This brat killed a monster that showed up here."
The other man considered this. "Well, it happens, but it''s very rare. If anything, he''s the most unlucky bastard we''ve ever met." They laughed, clapping Tyler on the back with surprising force.
Driven by curiosity, Tyler glanced at the men. His system instantly displayed their levels: the man across from him was level 74; the other, level 71. His heart pounded. These weren''t just ordinary travelers. The memory of his previous encounter¡ªa brutal beating and robbery¡ªsent a fresh wave of fear through him. What were these men capable of? Lost in thought, he barely registered their arrival at the town gates. The wagon rumbled through, finally stopping in the bustling marketplace.
The two men climbed down from the wagon, their conversation a mixture of laughter and low tones. Tyler could only catch snatches of their words: "...do you think Barnardo will be able to pay us?" one asked. The other chuckled, a harsh, grating sound. "Ha, he knows we''ll kill him if he doesn''t." More laughter followed. Relieved that nothing worse had happened, Tyler paid the driver two copper coins and, once the wagon had moved on, made his way through the marketplace and back towards Grone''s house.
As he reached the edge of Grone''s yard, a sharp poke in his back made him yelp. He spun around, his hand instinctively going to his weapon, only to find a young girl standing there. She wore a brown cloak, stained and dirty, her face smudged with grime. Her eyes, however, were surprisingly clear and held a look of almost desperate apology. "Say," she began, her voice hesitant, "can I sell you this dagger?" Tyler stared at her, a strange mixture of pity and fascination washing over him. Despite the dirt and worn clothing, there was an undeniable beauty about her that captivated him.
Chapter 25: Departure
Tyler continued to stare at the girl''s face, his gaze almost clinical, as if scanning her features. "Sir?" she prompted, tilting her head slightly. He blinked, snapping out of his scrutiny. "Oh, um, I don''t have any money," he mumbled, then a thought struck him. He remembered Hector mentioning a recent theft of daggers from his shop, the culprits described as orphans living on the streets. "You didn''t happen to steal this, right?" he asked cautiously. The girl''s eyes widened, and she quickly moved the dagger away, a nervous tremor in her hand. "Um, no," she whispered.
"Can I see the dagger, then?" Tyler asked. At his words, the girl turned and fled, running swiftly away. Tyler hesitated, taking a step forward as if to give chase, then stopped. The exhaustion from his training and the fight with the Elin weighed heavily on him; he was too tired to pursue her. He watched her go, seeing her quickly distance herself. His system automatically assessed her level as she ran: Emily Shred: Level 24.
"Emily Shredd," Tyler whispers, the name lingering on his lips. He turns and walks towards Grone''s house, opening the door and stepping inside. The house is empty. He heads to his room, intending to rest. Before settling down, he sits on his bed, assuming the lotus position, and focuses inward, attempting to sense his mana. After a moment, he realizes the level remains unchanged. He opens his eyes and speaks the command, "Status." His system menu appears, floating before him.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F LVL: 16
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 62/62MP: 62/62
STR: 51 AGI: 44 DEF: 63
STM: 35
STATUS: Tired
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Bash:MC-15
With the appearance of his status menu, Tyler realizes his mana (MP) is fully replenished. He considers this, a question forming in his mind: "Does leveling up refill my MP?" A moment later, he understands; his MP has indeed been restored to full upon leveling. He checks his status again, noting the lingering Tired debuff. He recalls that leveling sometimes lessens exhaustion, though rarely removes it completely. Two consecutive level-ups might do the trick, but that hadn''t been the case when leveling through exercise; only defeating monsters seemed to alleviate the exhaustion.
"Oh well, time to get some rest," Tyler murmured. As he attempted to remove his crimson armor, his nail caught on the fabric, scratching it slightly. A bizarre event followed. A red message flashed across his system: Armor has taken too much damage. The armor shimmered, turning a brilliant blue before dissolving into a cloud of tiny, glowing blue particles, like fireflies, that slowly dispersed into nothingness. Tyler stared, dumbfounded. He recalled the fight with the Elin, realizing the battle must have damaged the armor more than he''d realized, but the sudden loss of his protection left him feeling disoriented and uneasy.
He recalled losing his iron sword during the fight as well. The only weapons he had left were his bashing hammer and the copper daggers. A wave of worry washed over him; would all his equipment react the same way if damaged? The iron sword had been cleaved in two by the Elin''s wind attack, and though he hadn''t retrieved it afterward, he knew it was unusable. He just didn''t know what had happened to it. All he knew was that it no longer functioned.
He sighed, slumping back against the bed. Closing his eyes, he decided to rest, hoping perhaps to level up while asleep. As he drifted off, the front door creaked open, and Grone stepped inside. The sun had already set, and Tyler slept soundly.
Grone went straight to Tyler''s bedroom and found him fast asleep. A quiet smile played on his lips; he recognized the deep, exhausted sleep of someone who had pushed themselves to the very brink. A familiar warmth bloomed in his chest; he knew Tyler''s relentless drive, his refusal to accept limitations. It was a quality Grone both respected and, in a way he couldn''t quite articulate, envied. A quiet pride filled him as he observed the young man; Tyler''s dedication was inspiring. Then, Grone quietly returned to his own bedroom.
He found his wife, Lisa, asleep on the bed, her face relaxed and peaceful. Their daughter, Heather, lay peacefully beside her, her thumb nestled in her mouth. Grone gently removed his armor, revealing the simple clothing beneath, before carefully joining them in their sleep. Meanwhile, Tyler, sleeping soundly in his own bed, received a silent system message: Level Up!
Meanwhile, across town near a supermarket, in a dimly lit alleyway, the two men who had shared the wagon with Tyler were violently assaulting the A-rank adventurer who had previously robbed him. They rained blows upon him, their laughter echoing in the confined space. The man groaned in pain, pleading for them to stop. "Why should we?" one of the men sneered, grabbing the victim by the throat and lifting him slightly off the ground. "You think your debt is a joke?" he snarled, before delivering a brutal punch.
"You''re owing us forty gold coins," the other man said, his voice dripping with contempt. "And you think we''ll just let it go?" The man still choking the victim laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "Ha! I heard he''s been impersonating an A-rank hunter just to rob people around here." Bernardo''s eyes widened in surprise, even as he struggled for breath. The man tightening his grip pulled him closer. "You thought we wouldn''t know? News spreads. It was only a matter of time before the guards heard about it. And you know what happens when you impersonate an A-rank hunter." The other man joined in the laughter. "Did you actually think that was going to work?"
The man choking Bernardo''s hand began to glow red, and Bernardo felt a searing pain as if his neck were twisting. His heart hammered against his ribs; he knew he was about to be burned alive. But then, a sound cut through the air¡ªthe distinct clinking of a town guard''s boots on the cobblestones. A guard appeared at the alley''s entrance. "Hey! What''s going on here?"
The man holding Bernardo instantly shifted, trying to appear casual. "Nothing''s going on. We''re just enjoying some booze with our friend here." The other man was already pretending to hug Bernardo. The guard looked at them and said, "Well, you shouldn''t be drinking booze here."
One of the men replied, "Yeah, right. We''re headed to the bar soon."
The guard, suspicious, narrowed his eyes. Bernardo looked pale and unwell. He figured it was probably the booze. "Can I have some?" he asked.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
"Sorry, but this is all we have for now," the man said.
"Well, alright," the guard replied, still looking unconvinced.
"You should probably head to the bar then," the guard said, moving on.
The two men turned their attention back to Bernardo. He stumbled backward, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the ground, his head bowing low. "I''m sorry! I''m sorry! I promise I''ll pay you back, I''ll figure something out, please just don''t kill me!"
One of the men smiled, a cruel, predatory expression. "You could have at least robbed someone and sold their property. What the hell were you thinking?"
The other man crouched down, his face inches from Bernardo''s. "Yeah, pretending to be a hunter," he sneered, grabbing Bernardo''s hair and forcing him to look up. "What if we give him two days?"
The first man hesitated. "Two days? Isn''t that a bit much? Do you really think this guy can pull it off? So far he''s given us what? Five gold? This piece of shit can''t even make ten gold in that time. You think he''ll give us forty in two days?"
"He knows what the price is for not paying up," the other man said, his voice low and menacing.
"He''ll probably run away," the first man grumbled.
"Run away?" The man asked his comrade, a glint in his eye. He turned to Bernardo, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "Will you run away, Bernardo?"
Bernardo shook his head frantically. "No, no, no! I won''t run away!"
The man looked back at his companion. "See? He said he won''t run away."
His comrade scoffed. "Are you stupid? Just because he said that doesn''t mean it''s true." He pulled out a wicked-looking knife. "Well, Bernardo, looks like my comrade here isn''t fine with just letting you go. How about this: we''ll remove two of your fingers and then let you go. And if you don''t pay us in two days, we''ll take off your head."
"Wait¡ª" Bernardo began, but his protest was cut short. He saw a blur of motion, then felt a searing pain as his fingers were severed. They landed on the ground with a soft thud. He tried to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth. "Shh," the man hissed, his finger pressed to Bernardo''s lips. "Do you think screaming is going to help you? If the guard comes here, what do you think will happen?"
Tears streamed down Bernardo''s face. The man laughed, a harsh, cruel sound. "Are you crying? Huh, this piece of shit''s crying."
The other man, standing a little distance away, spoke up. "Let''s let him go for now. If the guard comes back and sees us standing over him with all this blood, he''ll be more suspicious."
The man crouching beside Bernardo nodded, rising to his feet. As they started to leave the alley, the man paused, turning back to look at Bernardo. "Two days," he said, his voice a low growl, before disappearing into the darkness.
Bernardo, clutching his bleeding hand, stared after them, his face a mask of shock and despair. He stood up unsteadily, his voice barely a whisper. "What the fuck am I going to do now?"
Bernardo turned and fled in the opposite direction, desperate to avoid any encounter with the guards. His hand throbbed, the blood a steady, crimson stream. He needed to stop the bleeding, and quickly. He melted into the shadows, disappearing as swifly. Time passed. Darkness yielded to light, the sun peeking over the horizon, heralding a new day.
Early in the morning, Tyler sat in a lotus position, feeling the flow of his mana. The sensation was both intensely addictive and frustratingly elusive, demanding unwavering concentration. He yearned to feel it, to control it, until it became as natural as breathing. Maybe this time it would help with his bashing skill. Lost in this meditative practice, he barely registered the door opening until Grone stepped inside. Grone looked at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you''re already awake," he said.
Tyler opened his eyes, meeting Grone''s gaze. "Good morning," he replied.
"Good morning," Grone echoed. "I have a proposition for you."
"A proposition?" Tyler asked, a questioning look on his face.
"Yes," Grone replied. "How about you come hunting with me?"
"Hunting?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Would that be okay? I''m not even a registered hunter yet."
Grone chuckled. "Yeah, it''ll be okay. Well, not legally. We''ll go to the base, then head into the forest. It didn''t look like you had that much of a problem back then, and you''ve leveled up considerably since. So I don''t think you''ll have the same issues you did before. So, what do you think?"
"Uh, yeah, I can definitely do that," Tyler said, hopping off the bed.
"Yeah, okay," Grone replied. "I''m already heading to the base now. Oh, and don''t forget to put on your armor."
"Uh, about that," Tyler said, a sheepish look on his face, "my armor is gone."
"What do you mean?" Grone asked, his brow furrowing.
"My armor received too much damage, so it disintegrated or something," Tyler explained. "Seems that''s what happens if my equipment takes too much damage. It happened to my armor, but I think it could happen to weapons too. Speaking of which, I also lost my iron sword."
"How did that happen?" Grone asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Well, when I was at the training grounds, I met a monster there," Tyler explained.
Grone was surprised. "You met a monster? In a non-monster zone?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "It was called an Ellen, or something like that."
Grone considered this. "An Elin? Of course. The only monsters that can be found in non-monster zones are usually flying ones. But it''s very rare. The bases close to the monster zones usually take them down before they get too far."
"I heard that it was rare too," Said Tyler.
"Oh really? Where did you hear that from?" Grone asked, intrigued.
"I climbed into a wagon with two other men. I told them about what happened, and they said it was pretty rare and called me unlucky, which is normal, I guess," Tyler replied.
Grone nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I''m just glad you''re alive. No, at least you''re alive. That means it wasn''t that much of a level difference, right?"
"It was a level 25," Tyler said.
Grone''s eyes widened in surprise. Tyler was an F-rank taking down a level 25 monster was extraordinary.
Grone smiled, a glint in his eye. "My theory was true."
Tyler was confused. "Theory?"
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "Remember when I told you you could have possibly been a lower E-rank?"
"Yeah, I remember that," Tyler said, "but I was G-rank back then."
"Yes, correct," Grone said. "Which means you were G-rank, but almost as strong as a lower E-rank. This means that because you became an F-rank, you''re as strong as a higher E-rank hunter, or even a D-rank if you keep leveling up. If you reach E-rank, then you''ll be..."
"...as strong as a D-Rank," Tyler finished Grone''s sentence, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Yes, I think you''re getting it," Grone said, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "This is a very big advantage."
Tyler understood why this was happening. It was likely due to his achievements. Every time the system announced "Achievement Unlocked," his stats would increase, but only specific ones. He hadn''t leveled up when that happened, so this was probably the explanation.
"So what are we going to do?" Grone asked. "You don''t have armor or a weapon."
"I do have a weapon," Tyler corrected.
Suddenly, two copper daggers shimmered into existence in Tyler''s hands, materializing seemingly out of thin air. Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You really do have weapons," Grone said, shaking his head. "I don''t think I''ll ever get used to that."
"Me neither," Tyler admitted. "It actually took me some time to get used to this."
"What about armor?" Grone asked. "Should we go to Hector''s to get you some?"
Tyler shook his head. "I don''t think that''ll work. I can''t use other people''s weapons; I probably can''t use other people''s armor either."
Grone frowned. "Oh, alright. Then where did you get that armor you were wearing? How did you make it?"
"It seems I can make materials from monsters" Tyler said.
"Monsters?" Grone asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Yes," Tyler replied, "from monster materials like hides. I know how to make armor from monster materials like hides. I haven''t made any weapons from them though."
Grone whistled softly. "Wow, that is a very good skill you have there." He sighed. "Well, too bad you can''t go now because you aren''t wearing any armor, but how are you going to get it if you don''t kill monsters? It seems you have no choice but to come with me."
Tyler smiled slightly. "Yeah."
"But please make sure you don''t get hurt, and protect Tyler," Lisa said, a hint of worry in her voice. She gave a small, reassuring smile. Grone nodded. "Don''t worry. I''ll do my best to protect him. Nothing bad will happen." Then, with a final nod, they left.
Tyler, walking beside Grone, felt a surge of determination. He knew that in time, he wouldn''t need anyone''s protection¡ªnot even Grone''s. He would be able to protect himself, to rely solely on his own strength.
They passed Hector''s and continued on to the marketplace. Reaching the area where the wagons waited, they were lucky enough to spot George. He was sitting on a wagon, munching on a straw and leaning against the bench. "Ah, it''s you two," he greeted them. "Going to the training grounds?"
"No, we''re heading to the Crossroads Base," Grone replied.
"Ah, well, hop on then," George said, gesturing to the wagon.
Tyler and Grone climbed into the back of the wagon, and they set off towards the Crossroads Base.
Chapter 26: The Hunt Begins
The wagon rattled along the main road. As they approached, the Crossroads Base materialized before Tyler''s eyes, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He remembered a similar experience from his first visit. Turning to Grone, he asked, "Why does it do that? It''s almost like it just magically appears, as if it were invisible."
Grone replied, "It''s because of a spell cast by mage hunters. The base is designed to appear invisible to humans from a distance, but as you get closer, it becomes visible. It remains invisible to monsters, though, no matter how close they get."
"How many types of hunters are there exactly?" Tyler asked.
Grone replied, "Well, there are five main types. There''s the warrior type hunter¡ªthat''s me. Then there''s the mage type hunter. I assume you''re one of those. And then there are tamers, tankers, and assassins." He paused. "And then there are the others. I''m not really sure if they fit into those categories. They''re far more powerful than us. I''m not sure what they''re called, they don''t really fit the typical descriptions."
"What are they?" Tyler pressed.
"Remember when I told you about the Chosen Ones, those who can use holy magic? Yeah, they''re superior to all five of the other types."
Tyler looked down at his hands, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Oh," he murmured, "mage hunter, huh? Come to think of it, the system always tells me my class is craftsman, not a mage hunter." He looked up at Grone. "But what if I''m another class entirely?"
"What do you mean?" Grone asked.
"The system always tells me my class is craftsman," Tyler explained.
Grone tapped a finger to his chin, pondering. "Well, it does make sense... but you are really good with weapons."
"You might be a warrior-type hunter," Grone mused. "You see, warrior-type hunters can cast spells, or use skills, too. But the spells are pretty weak; basic stuff like fireballs, small gusts of wind, and minor healing. It''s more like light healing¡ªit won''t fix serious wounds, just bruises."
"You can use things like that?" Tyler asked, surprised.
Grone shook his head. "No. Well, to tell you the truth, I wasn''t ever one of the five main types of hunters."
Tyler tilted his head, confused. "Huh?"
"I know, with my skill in swordsmanship, you''d think I was one of the five types, but I''m not," Grone clarified.
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, his curiosity piqued. He didn''t get an immediate answer as they entered the Crossroads Base. The wagon stopped behind the large tent, and Grone and Tyler climbed down. Grone paid George his fare, and they both headed towards the tent. Inside, the usual bustling scene of hunters accepting quests and chatting amongst themselves filled the air. Tyler spotted the familiar girl behind the counter.
Grone arrived at the counter and said, "Serena, hi, how have you been?"
"Hi," Serena replied. "You here to take some quests?"
"Yes," Grone answered.
Tyler then greeted her, "Hey."
Serena''s eyes widened in surprise. The young man before her looked familiar, but subtly different. He seemed a bit taller, and there was a subtle shift in his¡ presence. He looked slightly more¡ confident. The young man also looked slightly more muscular; not bulky, just subtly more defined. Serena said, "Oh, hi. I remember you. You''re Tyler, right?"
Tyler was surprised. He didn''t recall ever telling her his name.
"Yes, I am," Tyler said.
Serena nodded, then ducked behind the counter. She returned a moment later, removing some flyers and placing them on the counter. "These are the C-ranked quests currently available. There are only about four right now, so you should hurry before someone else takes them."
Grone nodded, "Okay," and began looking through the flyers, scanning them to find the most suitable quest. After a moment, he selected one and handed it to Serena.
Serena looked at the quest Grone selected. "Are you sure this is the one you want to take? It''s the hardest out of all of them."If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Grone confirmed, "Yeah."
Tyler asked, "What kind of mission did you take?"
"We have to come back with a level 50 Hexhorn''s horns," Grone replied. Tyler''s surprise was evident.
Tyler was about to say something when a system notification appeared in front of him:
Rank-C
Quest Created:Return with a Level 50 Hexhorn''s horn.
Reward: Basic Armor Recipe
Accept Quest (Yes\No)
The system notification appeared before Tyler, displaying a C-rank quest¡ªa sight he''d never seen before. He was surprised; the system had never directly offered him a quest. He recalled a previous system message mentioning rewards, including recipes, for completed quests, but it had never actually presented a quest to him. This meant that if he accepted a quest from Serena, the system would recognize it, and upon successful completion, provide the promised reward.
He looked at Grone. "You can complete this C-rank quest, right?"
Grone said, "Of course." He signed the quest acceptance form and handed it to Serena. "Okay, let''s go."
"Accept." Tyler whisperd.
"Wait, hold on," Serena said.
Grone let out a confused grunt, tilting his head. Serena, perched behind the counter, her brow furrowed with suspicion, called out, "Are you going hunting with this man?"
Grone, already turning to leave, paused. He faced her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Ah, no. He''s heading to the inn. I''m going hunting alone. Right, Tyler?" He glanced at Tyler, a silent question in his eyes.
Tyler, nervously fidgeting, met Serena''s gaze. He forced a smile, his voice a little too high. "Oh, yes," he stammered, avoiding her eyes. "I''m not going hunting. I''m... not a hunter yet."
Serena, still unconvinced, nodded slowly. "Oh, okay," she said. "Be safe out there then."
Grone simply grunted in acknowledgement, then continued on his way.
As Tyler walked near Grone, they were about to exit the crossroads base. Tyler asked, "Hey, what if monsters come out of that forest and attack the crossroads base? What do you do?"
Grone said, "Well, you see the wood that encircles the crossroads base? That wood is actually enchanted. So we can detect when monsters are nearby and we can fight back. Plus, with hunters coming in and out, no monster can come near this thing."
As they neared the forest, Tyler''s nervousness grew. They entered through a dense bush, disappearing into the quiet stillness of the woods. The forest was eerily empty, unnervingly quiet. Only Tyler seemed to hear the faint rustling of bushes underfoot, each sound sharpening his awareness as he walked beside Grone.
Grone glanced at him. "You should probably get your weapons out," he said.
Immediately, two copper daggers materialized in Tyler''s hands. He looked at them; an inscription shimmered into view: Attack 44 + 7% speed. The sight was reassuring. He continued walking, then stopped. He saw something.
A blue dog emerged from the bushes. It looked strangely familiar. The system notification appeared: Gloomfang Level 24. Tyler took an involuntary step back.
Grone said, "Don''t worry," and unsheathed his sword.
The system notification flashed again: Gloomfang used skill: Rush.
With impossible speed, the dog launched itself forward, a blur of motion. Tyler couldn''t even see its paws move, only the sudden, deadly lunge. Grone reacted instantly, swinging his sword as the dog leaped to bite him. The blade sliced through the air, severing both of the dog''s front legs. The dog howled in pain, collapsing to the ground.
"Quickly, kill it," Grone urged, his voice sharp and low.
Tyler hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, he lunged forward. His dagger found its mark, sinking deep into the dog''s neck. A high-pitched howl ripped through the air, quickly cut short as the creature shuddered and went still. Tyler stumbled back, catching his breath, the blue blood of the Gloomfang dripping from his dagger, a stark contrast to the green of the forest floor. He looked at the body, then at Grone.
He looked at Grone, brushing the blood from his dagger against a nearby tree. "Why... why did you let me kill it?" he asked, his voice slightly strained.
Grone kept his sword drawn, his expression unreadable. "This mission," he said, his voice calm but firm, "isn''t really about the quest at all. We want *you* to level up. You want to become a hunter, don''t you?"
Tyler nodded slowly, the pieces clicking into place. The familiar weight of the bloodied dagger in his hand felt normal. The understanding of the mission''s true purpose settled upon him. "Of course," he breathed, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. "This is all about leveling up."
"Good, now you''re getting it," Grone said. "We have to get out of this forest once you''re E-ranked. That''s when we''ll try to complete the mission."
Grone''s words were barely out of his mouth when Tyler felt a prickling sensation on his skin, a premonition of danger. A faint rustling sound, almost imperceptible, reached his ears. He turned, and in that instant, a slime appeared in the air, already lunging towards him. There was no time to react fully; the slime was upon him before he could fully process the threat. He reacted instinctively, bringing his dagger up in a swift, practiced arc. The blade sliced through the slime, cleaving it neatly in half. The slime let out a small, almost comical squeaking sound before dissolving into blue particles that vanished into the air.
"What level was that slime?" Tyler asked, but the question was already moot; the creature had vanished without a trace. He briefly glanced back at the Gloomfang''s remains before turning his attention back to Grone. The system notification appeared: Extract.
"Yes, extract," Tyler said, and the Gloomfang''s hide shimmered blue, then vanished, leaving behind only bare flesh. Grone looked surprised. "Is that one of your skills, too?" he asked.
"Yeah," Tyler replied. "This is how I get materials for making hammers and weapons from monsters." Grone watched as the last of the Gloomfang shimmered and disappeared. "That''s pretty useful," he said. "Okay, let''s go. We''re not done yet."
Tyler followed Grone, his body alert, scanning his surroundings. Then he saw it again¡ªthe disgusting, gelatinous creature¡ªa slither slithering out from a bush.
The system notification appeared: Slither:Level 6. Tyler felt a wave of relief wash over him at the low level. Before he could react, however, a large, green lizard-like creature burst from the undergrowth, its jaws snapping shut around the Slither. Both Tyler and Grone were startled by the sudden appearance.
The lizard, using its powerful jaws, tossed the Slither into the air before chewing it down. Tyler felt a wave of disgust at the scene. A system notification appeared beside the lizard: Drako: Level 26.
"You might need to sit this one out, kid," Grone said, approaching the Drako as it swallowed the Slither whole.
To Tyler''s surprise, the Drako''s level changed. The system notification updated: Drako Level 27.
"Um, Grone?" Tyler said. "This Drako just leveled up."
"It what? What level is it?" Grone asked, his eyes narrowing.
"It was level 26, now it''s level 27," Tyler replied.
"Just great..." Grone muttered.
Just as Tyler was taking a step back, he heard a low growl behind him. He whirled around to see a massive crimson wolf, its eyes burning with predatory intensity. The system notification appeared: Level 47. A cold dread washed over Tyler as he read the level. This was a Level 47¡ªalmost certainly a D-Rank monster. He was an F-Rank; what was he supposed to do?
"Grone!" he called out, his voice trembling slightly.
Grone turned, his eyes following Tyler''s gaze to the large red wolf poised to attack.
The Drako, which had been facing Grone, hissed, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through the air. With surprising speed, it launched itself at Grone. Grone reacted instantly, swinging his sword to meet the Drako''s snapping jaws. The lizard''s teeth clamped down on the sword, but Grone''s strength and skill prevented it from getting a fatal bite. However, the Drako''s momentum carried it forward, and Grone was thrown to the ground, his sword now used defensively to keep the Drako''s jaws from his face.
As Tyler watched, the crimson wolf continued its advance, stepping closer and closer. The copper daggers in his hands vanished, replaced by a heavy-looking bashing hammer. "¡ª" he began, his voice tight with tension. " This is what it means to be hunter, right? "
Chapter 27: Level Up Or Die
Tyler had always felt weak against any significant advantage. One of the bad traits that he knew about himself was that he didn''t believe he could win or successfully come out on top when things weren''t in his favor. Life, up to this point, had proven that to be true. He held the bashing hammer, his hands trembling slightly. He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening. "I''m not going to die today," he thought, the words a mantra against the rising tide of fear. "Not until I repay him."
The crimson wolf exploded into motion. With a guttural snarl, it launched itself forward. Tyler swung the hammer with all his strength, a desperate, full-bodied movement born of instinct and training. The blow missed, the hammerhead passing within inches of the wolf''s head, the wind from the swing ruffling the crimson fur.
The system notification flashed: Crimson Wolf used skill: Claw.
The wolf''s massive claws connected with Tyler''s abdomen with skin- tearing force. A searing pain ripped through him as the claws tore into his flesh, opening a deep, ragged wound that spurted blood. He gasped, the air knocked from his lungs, his body reeling from the impact.
Grone heard Tyler''s cry. With a grunt of exertion, he shoved the Drako off him, scrambling to his feet. He raised his sword, pointing it at the still-lunging reptile, then looked back at Tyler. "Kid, hang in there," he called out.
Tyler''s system display immediately updated: HP: 40/64. One attack from the wolf had cost him 24 HP. The crimson wolf circled slowly, assessing Tyler''s condition.
Grone, facing the Drako, launched himself forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc aimed at the creature''s head. The Drako ducked, its head snapping down to avoid the blow. Grone followed through with a downward slash, attempting to split the Drako''s head, but the creature rolled aside with surprising agility. The Drako paused, its black eyes gleaming, its snake-like tongue flicking out to taste the air.
Tyler''s eyes widened as a system notification flashed across his vision: Crimson Wolf used skill: Red Rush. Before the words fully registered, a crimson blur erupted from the periphery of his vision. The air itself seemed to vibrate as an immense force slammed into his side, a searing pain exploding through his abdomen. He felt a sickening tearing sensation as a chunk of flesh was ripped away, leaving a gaping wound that screamed in protest. The wolf was gone as quickly as it appeared, a phantom of motion leaving only the lingering scent of blood and the agony of his injury.
A strangled roar tore from Tyler''s throat as he stumbled, his hand flying to his side to press against the wound. The crimson stain blossomed across his fingers, a stark contrast to his pale skin. His system display, usually a calm, objective observer, flashed the brutal reality: HP: 13/64. Bleeding effect. User will lose HP according to the amount of blood loss. Even as he watched, the numbers continued to plummet, the relentless countdown stark against the backdrop of his throbbing pain. He saw the number drop again: HP: 10/64.
Grone, locked in his own desperate struggle with the Drako, heard Tyler''s cry. The sound, raw and filled with agony, cut through the din of battle. A grim expression hardened his features. Damnit, he thought, the words a silent curse against the cruel twist of fate that had pitted them against such overwhelming odds. "Why did I have to be facing a Drako? I have to finish this quick, or Tyler''s going to die." He shifted his stance, his eyes narrowed, preparing to unleash a powerful skill. The sounds of Tyler''s ragged breathing and the steady drip of blood were a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Tears welled in Tyler''s eyes, tracing paths down his cheeks. A choked chuckle escaped his lips, sounding more like a painful rasp than anything resembling amusement. "You''re crying? Come on, dude, you''ve done this before, right?" he muttered to himself, the words a desperate attempt to summon the resilience of his earlier hunts, the memories of his first terrifying encounters in the forest. His other hand, slick with blood, found the hammer''s haft, his grip trembling slightly from the pain and the steady stream of warm liquid flowing from his wound.
The crimson wolf, having momentarily vanished, reappeared directly in front of him, its jaws stained crimson with the flesh it had just torn away, the remnants of Tyler''s abdomen clearly visible within its mouth as it swallowed the piece. Tyler groaned at the gruesome sight. The wolf growled, a low rumble in its chest, and launched itself at him once more.
Instinctively, Tyler''s mana surged, connecting with the hammer, activating his bash skill. The hammer connected with the wolf''s head with a resounding thwack, the impact sending a shockwave through Tyler''s arm. The wolf howled in pain, its body tumbling backward, its side slamming against a tree trunk with a sickening thud.
The system notification appeared: James Grone activated skill: Pierce. Grone moved with a speed that defied the eye, a blur of motion culminating in the precise placement of his sword''s tip against the Drako''s neck. The impact was not a clean cut; it was an explosion. The Drako''s head detonated in a gruesome spray of blood, bone fragments, and green ichor, showering Grone and the surrounding area in a horrifying rain of viscera. The creature''s body convulsed once, then lay still.
Tyler, momentarily distracted by the graphic display of Grone''s skill, reacted instinctively. He activated his bash skill, aiming the hammer at the downed crimson wolf. But the wolf, displaying a surprising burst of speed despite its injuries, rolled aside, avoiding the blow. Its jaw hung open, revealing a bloody mess of torn flesh and broken teeth. It fled into the undergrowth, disappearing into the bushes. The hammer struck the ground with a heavy thud, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden silent forest.
Tyler''s eyes, wide with a mixture of adrenaline and pain, followed the wolf''s retreat. He attempted to pursue, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision swam, blurring into a hazy mess of greens and browns. He stumbled, collapsing against the rough bark of a tree trunk. The system display, cold and clinical, appeared before his eyes: HP: 3/64. The low number was a stark reminder of his precarious state.
A wave of weakness washed over Tyler as his body hit the ground, his back sliding against the rough bark of the tree. His muscles felt leaden, his limbs unresponsive. Grone quickly reached Tyler''s side, crouching down beside him. He began to tap Tyler''s face repeatedly, his voice sharp with urgency. "Hey, hey! Don''t sleep! You can''t die here!"
Tyler''s eyelids felt heavy, his vision blurring. His voice was barely a whisper. "I didn''t think I''d end this way," he murmured, his words slurring slightly. "In the end, I couldn''t even repay you for what you''ve done for me."
"Don''t say that," Grone said, his voice tight with concern. "You''re not dying here."
Despite Grone''s words, Tyler felt his strength ebbing away, a relentless tide pulling him towards oblivion. "I''m sorry," he rasped, his apology encompassing everyone he had ever known, in both worlds. "I couldn''t become anyone reliable... in the end... sorry, everyone..." His system display flashed: HP: 1/64. His eyelids fluttered closed.
"Damnit, James," Grone muttered, his voice laced with frustration and despair. "You useless hunter! If only you could heal him!"
"Kid, you''re not useless. You hear me? You''re not going to die. You''re going to repay me. You''re one of the most relatable people I''ve ever met," Grone said, his voice raw with emotion. "You said you wanted to be a hunter. You''re going to be the best there is. Just wake up."
When Tyler didn''t respond, a single tear traced a path down Grone''s weathered cheek. He whispered the next words, his head bowed, his voice filled with a despair that belied his gruff exterior. "Somehow... you felt like a son to me."
At that moment, Tyler''s system display erupted with notifications: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!
Meanwhile, in a separate part of the forest, the crimson wolf, which had fled earlier, lay dead, its lifeblood staining the forest floor.
A soft light began to emanate from Tyler''s body, his wounds visibly mending as his skin glowed with an ethereal luminescence. With a gasp, he inhaled deeply, his eyes snapping open. He sat up abruptly, startling Grone.
Chapter 28: Finally An E Rank
Tyler''s eyes blinked rapidly, as if he needed to confirm the reality of his situation. "Am... alive?" he whispered, his hand instinctively going to his side where moments before a gaping wound had been. The skin was smooth, unbroken. There was no pain, no throbbing, only the slight tearing of his shirt where the crimson wolf''s claws had ripped through his flesh. The healing was complete, his body restored as if the injuries had never existed.
Grone stared at Tyler, his surprise evident in his wide eyes. Without warning, he punched Tyler lightly on the head.
"Ow! Why did you do that?" Tyler groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Are you serious? You almost died a second ago! I thought you¡ªI thought you were dead!" Grone exclaimed, his voice still laced with the lingering shock.
"I thought that too, but..." Tyler''s voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to his system stats.
"I leveled up," Tyler said, his voice low, a mixture of surprise and disbelief coloring his tone. "Why didn''t you tell me you have the ability to heal yourself? I got worried, I almost..." Grone cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence.
"I don''t have a healing ability," Tyler explained, "I just heal whenever I level up."
"Whenever you level up, you heal?" Grone asked, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Yeah..." Tyler replied, pushing himself to his feet.
Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the silence. The bushes around them began to shake violently, the sound growing steadily louder.
"What''s going on? It''s like they''re all around us," Tyler said, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees.
"I think you called them here when you missed that wolf," Grone said, moving towards the center of the small clearing, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Tyler remembered the loud echo of his hammer hitting the ground when he''d missed the fleeing crimson wolf.
He followed Grone to the open space. "You take my back," Grone instructed, his voice low and serious. "Once they come out, get ready to fight."
"Alright," Tyler said, the word a short, sharp exhale as he summoned his hammer. The familiar weight settled in his hands, a small comfort against the rising tide of apprehension. Four Gloomfangs exploded from the undergrowth, surrounding him. Their blue fur seemed to absorb the light, making them appear almost shadowy against the forest floor. "Grone," he called out, his voice tight with urgency, "I''ve got four of them!"
Grone, who had been momentarily facing away, spun around at the sound of Tyler''s voice. The ferocity of the creatures was immediately apparent. "Switch!" he yelled, the command sharp and decisive. In a quick movement, they exchanged positions. Grone now stood between Tyler and the four Gloomfangs, his stance low and ready. Tyler, for a brief moment, found himself facing only trees, the sudden silence disorienting. The quiet was shattered by the sound of snapping branches as a fifth Gloomfang, a level 44, burst from the undergrowth directly in front of him. It was similar in size to the others, a compact, lethal predator. "Just my luck," Tyler muttered, his grip tightening on the hammer. The beast before him growled, a low rumble that vibrated through the forest floor.
The Gloomfang''s attack was a blur of blue fur and bared teeth. Reflexively, Tyler activated his Bash skill. The hammer, a familiar weight in his grip, arced through the air in a powerful, controlled swing. The sound of the impact was sickening ¨C a sickening crack followed by a wet thud as bone and flesh gave way. The Gloomfang''s head exploded in a spray of ichor and shattered bone, its body collapsing in a heap near the base of the tree, disturbing the already disturbed earth where the crimson wolf had fallen earlier. The system notifications, Level Up! Level Up!, blinked briefly in his peripheral vision, a stark contrast to the grim reality of the scene.
He risked a glance at Grone. Three more Gloomfangs lay sprawled on the forest floor, their blue fur matted with blood. Next to each body, a stark blue box shimmered into existence, displaying the single word: Extract. The remaining Gloomfang, its eyes wide with a primal terror that mirrored the frantic beating of Tyler''s own heart, turned tail and fled. As if summoned by an unseen force, Tyler''s hammer vanished from his grasp. In its place, he held two copper daggers, cool and smooth against his skin. The system message, Weapon Mastery activated. +7% speed, appeared, a fleeting acknowledgment of the shift in his capabilities. With a motion that was less a throw and more an extension of his own will, he launched the daggers. They sliced through the air, leaving barely a whisper of their passage, finding their mark with deadly precision in the fleeing creature''s back.
Then, a pained howl ripped through the air, echoing through the trees. A new notification appeared on Tyler''s system display: Level Up! Tyler stared at the screen as his status updated:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E LVL: 23
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 76/76 MP: 76/76The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
STR: 65 AGI: 58
DEF: 50 STM: 49
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery
Equipped Skill: Bash
```
He blinked, rereading the information. "Am I an E-Rank?" he asked, more to himself than to Grone.
Grone, who had been examining the fallen Gloomfangs, looked up, a question in his eyes. "What? Did you say you''re E-Rank?"
Tyler nodded, still slightly stunned. "Yeah."
Tyler looked at Grone and saw his level: 56. "You leveled up too? You''re a level 56?"
"I know," Grone said. "Turns out when you''re C-rank or higher, you can feel when you level up."
Right then, another notification appeared: New Skill unlocked: Alchemy.
"Alchemy?" Tyler said, the word hanging in the air, full of curiosity.
"Alchemy," Grone said, his voice a low question.
"Yeah," Tyler replied, "it seems I''ve got a new skill."
"A new skill?" Grone asked, a hint of surprise in his tone. "You actually got a new skill?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed, looking at the notification again. "It says ''Alchemy''." He frowned, scratching his head. "What is alchemy, exactly?"
Grone shrugged. "I don''t really know. I''ve never heard of such a skill."
Tyler pondered this, scratching his head. The mystery of the new skill was intriguing, but it was quickly overshadowed by other sounds. A low rumble started to build in the air, growing steadily louder. Then, a high-pitched ionking noise cut through the rumble ¨C the unmistakable sound of a pig.
They exchanged a look. Both knew instantly what it meant. A HexHorn was coming.
Tyler saw a notification shimmer into existence from the edge of the bushes: a text box reading Hex Horn, Level 48. A wave of disappointment washed over him. They were here for level 50 and above HexHorn''s horns; this one fell short of their target. Still, a level 48 HexHorn was far from harmless. Both he and Grone instantly raised their guard, their bodies tensing.
The Hex Horn burst from the bushes, charging directly at them ¨C a blur of bristling fur and tusks, seemingly intent on running them down. With a desperate, instinctive movement, Tyler and Grone scrambled to the sides, narrowly avoiding the creature''s brutal charge. The HexHorn, momentarily thwarted, skidded to a halt, its snorting breath a cloud in the air.
The HexHorn turned, its massive hoof already beginning to lift, preparing for another charge. But Tyler was faster. With a powerful spring from his legs, he launched himself into the air, his body a blur of motion. The hammer, a familiar extension of his own strength, whistled through the air, a deadly arc of steel against the bright sunlight. The system notification flashed: Bash skill activated. The impact echoed through the clearing ¨C a bone-jarring CRACK as the hammer connected with the HexHorn''s tusks.
The massive creature shrieked, a sound of pure, agonizing pain, as its massive weight crashed to the ground, its chin impacting the earth with a sickening thud. Seizing the opportunity, Grone activated his Piercing skill.
Grone launched himself forward, a blur of motion. His sword, a gleaming silver blade, found its mark with terrifying precision ¨C the Hex Horn''s eye. The moment the tip touched the creature''s eye, a shriek of pure agony tore through the air. With incredible force, the sword pierced completely through the HexHorn''s head, emerging from the other eye. A powerful explosive force erupted from the impact, a gust of wind blasting outwards from the point of contact.
Tyler watched, astonished as always by Grone''s skill. The Hex Horn died instantly, its head intact, yet undeniably lifeless.
"Phew," Tyler breathed, "that was close."
Grone sheathed his sword, his face impassive. "I''m actually out of words," he admitted, a rare crack in his usual stoicism.
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, genuinely curious.
Grone looked at him, a hint of something akin to pride in his usually stoic expression. "You''ve really grown," he said, the words seeming almost hesitant.
"I''ve grown?" Tyler echoed, surprised.
Grone nodded. "Yeah. You managed to move before I did. Which is a first, honestly. And... you have... you seem to be stronger and faster now. Which is honestly impressive." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Seeing as you are now... I''m still wondering how you were able to manage a whole night alone in the woods when it was your first time here."
Tyler scratched his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I guess I was lucky," he admitted. "I mean, I spent the night sleeping in a tree. That''s how I saw you from up there."
Grone nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So that time I saw you, you saw me first, from up a tree?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed. "I just saw a man walking in the woods and I ran to get some help. I actually thought I was the only person in the woods, and when I saw you I was really relieved."
. "Well, that decision was good and bad," he said, his voice serious again. "But we can''t keep talking right now. We really have to find that C-rank HexHorn."
Tyler looked down at the fallen HexHorn. Beside it, a text box shimmered into existence: Extract. His eyes widened in sudden realization. He glanced around, noticing the scattered remains of the Gloomfangs. Each corpse had its own Extract prompt.
"Oh," he murmured, remembering the system''s function. He said, "Extract." A flash of light erupted. The hides of the Gloomfangs vanished, leaving behind only bone and flesh, their fangs and teeth still intact. The Hex Horn''s hide and horns also vanished, leaving only its bare skull and skeletal structure.
"Wow," Grone said, shaking his head slightly. "I don''t think I''ll ever get used to that." He started walking, Tyler falling into step beside him.
"We haven''t crossed the river yet, did you realize that?" Grone remarked, his gaze sweeping the landscape.
Tyler stopped, surprised. Grone was right; they hadn''t. A wave of apprehension washed over him. He knew what lay beyond the river ¨C more monsters. He remembered the Shadowfangs, their terrifying attacks, and how close he had come to death during their last encounter.
They continued walking, the forest growing denser and darker. Then, Tyler heard a faint, almost imperceptible squelching sound behind him. He turned and saw a shimmering, translucent patch on the ground. A small notification appeared above it: Level 4 Slime.
A copper dagger materialized in his hand. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he threw the dagger. It embedded itself easily in the slime, which let out a *cue* sound as it disintegrated, dying instantly. He continued walking.
They walked on, the forest seemingly endless. Then, in a clearing, they encountered a Level 14 Pixel, a peacock-like bird, a bizarre hybrid of ostrich and peacock. This was the second time Tyler had seen one.
Right as the Pixel spread its magnificent wings, a kaleidoscope of iridescent feathers, Tyler remembered Grone''s warning from their last encounter. Before the bird could unleash its hypnotic display, Grone repeated the instruction, his voice urgent: "Cover your ears and close your eyes!"
They obeyed instantly, shielding themselves from the impending assault. The Pixel''s wings began to shift through a dizzying array of colors ¨C emerald, sapphire, ruby ¨C a chaotic, mesmerizing spectacle designed to ensnare the minds of any who dared to watch. Then, it opened its beak, and a high-pitched shriek tore through the air. Even with his ears covered, Tyler felt the sound vibrate through his skull, a painful, piercing wave of noise.
When the shrieking finally ceased, a copper dagger materialized in Tyler''s hand, ready for whatever came next.
Before Tyler could react, a system notification flashed before his eyes: James Grone has used skill: Slash. In a blur of motion, he saw Grone''s blade arc through the air. The Pixel''s head separated from its body with a clean, almost surgical precision, mirroring the swift execution of their previous encounter. The creature collapsed, lifeless.
Instantly, a text prompt appeared beside the fallen Pixel: Extract. Without hesitation, Tyler spoke the word aloud: "Extract." Another system notification followed: Extraction Successful.
Tyler instinctively opened his inventory screen. Rows of husks filled several slots, the remnants of previous encounters. Among them, he saw a stack of fifteen iridescent feathers, clearly marked as belonging to the Pixel. He closed the inventory, the weight of the successful extraction settling upon him.
They continued their trek, the forest gradually thinning as they approached the river. Finding a narrow point where the current seemed less treacherous, they carefully made their way across, the cool water rushing around their legs. The far bank offered a new vista, a continuation of their perilous journey.
Chapter 29: Shattered Steel
As Tyler walked beside Grone, a Level 23 Slither erupted from the bushes. Longer and thicker than any they''d encountered before, its elongated teeth practically obscured its head. With terrifying speed, it slithered towards them.
Tyler reacted instantly, two copper daggers materializing in his hands. With practiced ease, he hurled them. The first dagger found its mark in the Slither''s tail. The creature reared its head, emitting a high-pitched shriek of pain. Before it could fully react, the second dagger struck its head, and the creature collapsed, lifeless.
"Good job," Grone said, calmly walking past the fallen beast. The daggers vanished back into Tyler''s inventory. He followed Grone, who now crouched down, carefully examining the forest floor. Grone pointed to a series of hoof prints imprinted in the earth. "Just as I thought," he said, standing up. "We''re in their territory."
"Why do you say that?" Tyler asked.
"You can always tell by the hoof prints," Grone explained, gesturing to the tracks. "And those flowers over there," he added, pointing to a cluster of peach-colored blossoms in the distance, "those are Hexhorns'' favorites. They rarely stray far from them."
Tyler looked, surprised he hadn''t noticed them before. Their petals were spread wide like a sunflower, strikingly beautiful against the forest floor.
"So...they eat those flowers?" Tyler asked.
"No," Grone said, "I think it''s their aroma that captivates them. They never actually eat the flowers."
Tyler approached the blossoms, and a system notification appeared before him: `Vital Flower: Material.`
"Material?" Tyler questioned aloud. The system prompt updated: `Collect Material`
"Um, yes," Tyler replied, "collect material."
Instantly, the flowers vanished completely. Tyler muttered to himself, "This is new."
"What?" Grone asked, turning towards him.
"Nothing," Tyler said, walking to rejoin Grone. Grone, however, had noticed the absence of the flowers. "Did you take those flowers?!" he exclaimed, his voice sharp with alarm.
"Yeah, I collected them. What''s wrong?" Tyler asked, completely unaware of the impending danger.
Before Grone could answer, a deep rumbling sound echoed through the forest ¨C the unmistakable sound of heavy hooves pounding the earth. They both knew instantly that multiple Hexhorns were approaching. Tyler saw three Hexhorns emerge from the trees. He quickly assessed their levels: a Level 23 on the left, a Level 52 in the middle, and a Level 55 on the right.
Tyler''s eyes widened in shock. The Level 52 and 55 Hexhorns were C-rank beasts ¨C significantly more powerful than anything they''d faced before.
"Run!" Grone yelled, already sprinting off to his left. "Let''s split up. It''ll confuse them and buy us some time!"
Tyler immediately ran in the opposite direction from Grone, splitting up as planned. The three Hexhorns paused, their massive heads swiveling as if deciding which prey to pursue. Two of them, the Level 52 and 55, veered to the right, following Tyler''s trail. The Level 23 Hexhorn lumbered off in Grone''s direction.
Grone ran, putting distance between himself and Tyler. He slowed his pace, hoping to draw only the lower-ranked monster. "I think I''ve gone far enough," he muttered, his breath ragged. "Hopefully, the lower-ranked monster went after Tyler." He stopped, turning to face the direction from which the Hexhorns were approaching, his sword held ready. A chill ran down his spine as the Level 23 Hexhorn came into view. The realization that Tyler was facing the two higher-level beasts alone sent a fresh wave of icy dread through him. A grim determination settled over Grone as he prepared for battle. The Hexhorn''s hoof scraped against the forest floor, and then it charged.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The monstrous Hexhorn, a hulking behemoth of muscle and bone, bore down on Grone. Grone, eyes narrowed in concentration, waited for the optimal moment. As the Hexhorn drew closer, he exploded into motion. With a powerful leap, he executed a front flip, his body momentarily upside down as he unleashed his Slash skill. His sword, a gleaming arc of polished steel, flashed in the dappled sunlight. The Slash skill amplified his strength, driving the blade through the thick, leathery hide of the Hexhorn''s back with a sickening thwack. Crimson blood erupted, staining the forest floor. He landed hard. He didn''t pause, pushing himself to his feet and sprinting towards Tyler.
Meanwhile, Tyler, his lungs burning, stumbled to a halt, his eyes fixed on the approaching Level 55 Hexhorn. The beast was a terrifying sight, its massive frame a wall of muscle and rage, its tusks gleaming menacingly. The sheer scale of the creature dwarfed Tyler, making him feel insignificant, a tiny insect facing a colossal predator. "Fuck, I''m screwed," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his heart. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought it back, his survival instincts kicking in. He materialized two copper daggers, their cool metal a stark contrast to the sweat beading on his skin. With a guttural cry, he unleashed his first dagger, throwing it with all his might. The dagger struck the Hexhorn''s tusk. The dagger shattered upon impact. Without a moment''s hesitation, Tyler launched himself into a desperate acrobatic maneuver, his body twisting and turning. He released his second dagger, aiming for a vulnerable spot.
The second dagger, propelled by the force of Tyler''s desperate throw, pierced the Hexhorn''s eye with a sickening thud. The massive beast shrieked in agony, a sound that tore through the forest, its forward momentum abruptly halted as it skidded to a stop. Seizing the opportunity, Tyler summoned his hammer, muscles bunching as he leaped high into the air, activating his Bash skill. The hammer head, a devastating weapon in his skilled hands, descended with terrifying force, landing precisely on the dagger embedded in the Hexhorn''s eye socket. The impact was earth-shattering; the hilt of the dagger punched through the creature''s skull with a resounding bash, a gust of wind rippling outwards from the point of impact. The Hexhorn collapsed with a lifeless thud, its massive body trembling slightly before falling still.
A series of notifications flooded Tyler''s vision: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!
His updated stats appeared:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 27
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 84/84 MP: 84/84
STR: 73 AGI: 66
DEF: 58 STM: 57
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skill: Bash
```
Tyler stared at the display, a wave of surprise washing over him. He had leveled up four times from a single kill.
Was it because it was two ranks higher than him? Another notification appeared: Achievement unlocked: Kill 20 monsters: STR +6. Another followed immediately: Achievement unlocked: I''ve killed my share: User has killed over seven different monsters. STM +5.
Just then, a new notification flashed across his vision: Hexhorn has used skill: Charge. Before Tyler could react, the ground trembled. He whirled around to see a Hexhorn charging at him with terrifying speed. It was too late to evade. The Hexhorn slammed into him, its massive body impacting his gut with brutal force. The impact sent a white-hot flash of pain through him, and he was thrown backward, the Hexhorn continuing to push against him, driving him through the undergrowth, branches and twigs whipping against his body.
His HP display flashed: HP: 15/84. The blow had depleted 69 HP. Excruciating pain ripped through him, but Tyler fought against it, summoning his remaining copper dagger with a fierce surge of adrenaline.
Even though the pain was excruciating, Tyler fought against it, summoning his remaining copper dagger. It materialized in his hand, and with a guttural yell, he drove the dagger into the Hexhorn''s eye. The beast shrieked, a sound of pure, agonizing rage, but its charge continued, unrelenting. Tyler ripped the dagger free and, with a desperate lunge, plunged it into the other eye socket.
The Hexhorn swung its massive head wildly, the force of the movement throwing Tyler to the ground. He landed hard, the impact jarring his already battered body. He saw his HP drop again, the display now showing a critical 11/84. Touching his abdomen, a wave of nausea washed over him as he vomited blood onto the forest floor. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he muttered, "Dammit, why does this keep happening to me?" He equipped his hammer, the cold steel a small comfort in the face of overwhelming pain.
The Hexhorn, both eyes bleeding profusely, turned slowly, its movements clumsy and uncertain. It was blind.
Tyler saw his chance. He began to run towards the creature, adrenaline temporarily masking the agony. The Hexhorn, despite its blindness, sensed the change in the air, the vibrations of Tyler''s approach. It let out a deafening roar and charged.
Tyler activated his Bash skill, a surge of energy coursing through him. He swung his hammer sideways with all his might, a guttural roar escaping his lips as muscles bunched and strained. The hammer head connected with the Hexhorn''s nose in a brutal collision. A sickening crack echoed through the forest as the hammer head shattered upon impact, the force of the blow sending a small shockwave rippling through the undergrowth. The impact knocked Tyler off his feet, sending him sprawling backward. The Hexhorn, caught off guard by the unexpected force, was flipped onto its back with a thunderous thud. Dust and debris erupted from the impact zone. The Hexhorn remained motionless.
The system notifications appeared: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!
Tyler remained on the ground for a moment, catching his breath. He then pushed himself up, a small, almost hesitant smile touching his lips. His exhaustion was gone, replaced by a feeling of renewed energy. His HP had fully replenished.
A system notification popped up: Achievement Unlocked: Can Take a Hit. User has survived multiple critical hits more than once: +5 HP.
A moment of silence hung in the air, broken only by the sounds of the forest. Then, Grone''s voice cut through the quiet, "Wow," he said, the single word carrying a mixture of awe and disbelief. The sound startled Tyler, causing him to quickly turn his head.
"You managed to defeat two C-rank monsters on your own," Grone said, his voice still tinged with disbelief.
Tyler smiled, a genuine smile this time, unburdened by pain or exhaustion. "Yeah, I guess I got lucky," he replied.
Chapter 29.1: Monster and kills
Monsters Killed
Hexhorn: 3
Crimson wolf: 2
shadow claw: 2
slimes: 10
slither: 2
Elin: 1
Gloomfang: 2
Monster killed: 23
Monster we know:
Shadow Claw: A cute but deadly creature resembling a rabbit, except its fur is dark black, and it has glowing red eyes that intensify in moonlight. It emits a shriek when attacking. Skills: Shadow Claw, Shadow Step.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Slither: An eel-like creature with a cream-white color, slithering like a snake. It is eyeless and possesses long, sharp, yellow teeth. Its size and length increase with level. It has no listed skills.
Gloomfang: A dog-like creature with blue fur, blue eyes, and black claws. Its size does not change with level increases. Skill: Rush.
Elin: A bird-like creature nearly identical to an eagle, but larger and possessing a third eye in the center of its forehead. Skills: Cyclone Wing, Zoom.
Craven: A blue bird, approximately the size of a fully grown rooster, with an owl-like appearance. Skill: Lighten.
Drako: A large green lizard with smooth, scaleless skin, a powerful jaw, black eyes, and a red, forked tongue. Skill: Claw.
Pixel: A bird resembling a peacock but with long flamingo-like legs. Its plumage is blue from the head to the waist, transitioning to a different color from the waist to its legs. It possesses wings that abruptly and continuously shift colors. Skills: Hypnotize, Sonic Pulse.
Slime: A gelatinous, round creature with a slimy texture. Slimes can absorb each other, resulting in increased size, level, and durability. Skill: Bash.
Crimson Wolf: A wolf-like creature with predominantly red fur, accented by white fur on its chest. Regardless of level, its lifespan and HP remain low; however, its attack power increases significantly with each level, as does its size, up to a certain limit. Skills: Red Rush, Claw.
Hexhorn: A warthog-like creature with six horns and thick, tough hide that is difficult to penetrate. It is brown in color and has a diet consisting of grass and fruits. Hexhorns are aggressive towards both humans and other creatures. Their size and toughness increase with level. Skill: Charge.
Lurker: An eel like creture that lives in water. Has blue scaly skin and black eyes. Skill: Surge.
Chapter 30: Finally A Hunter
Grone walked over to Tyler, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Kid," he said, "that had nothing to do with luck. What I witnessed just now was pure skill."
Tyler looked at him, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, I guess you''re right," he replied.
Grone removed his hand and looked down at the dead Hexhorn. "Can you use that skill of yours again?" he asked, gesturing towards the corpse.
"Right," Tyler said, and he began to extract materials from the creature. The materials appeared in his inventory; he saw a horn-shaped icon, with the number 12 displayed beside it.
Grone nodded. "So you have the horns in your subspace¡ thingy?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed, and one of the horns appeared in his hand. Surprisingly, it was longer than it had appeared on the Hexhorn itself, noticeably longer near the base where it had been thicker. Tyler noticed a small, brow-like circle near the thicker part of the horn''s base.
"What''s with this circle?" Tyler asked, pointing to the mark on the horn.
"Oh, that?" Grone said, taking the horn and examining it closely. "This is something all C-rank Hexhorns have. Fortunately, it''s something we hunters use to determine their rank if we don''t have the Uncover skill."
He handed the horn back to Tyler. "Here," Grone said. "Let''s go see the other one," he added, heading back towards the location of the second Hexhorn Tyler had killed. Tyler followed. As they reached their destination, they saw a girl kneeling near the dead creature. She had silver hair, wore black leather boots, and light blue leather armor. Tyler watched as she reached for a dagger, as if she were about to extract materials.
"Hey!" Grone called out as they came into view. "That''s our kill."
"Oh yeah? How do I know you''re telling the truth?" she challenged, her eyes narrowing.
Tyler looked at the girl as she stood. Her level appeared above her head: Rebecca Sharp: LVL 44. Then, something surprising happened. The Hexhorn''s hide and horns glowed a faint blue before vanishing completely, leaving only the bones and flesh behind. Rebecca stumbled back, startled.
"What did you just¡ªwhat happened?" she demanded, raising her dagger defensively.
"It''s a skill he has," Grone explained calmly. "He just took all the materials that rightfully belong to us."
Rebecca''s eyes flickered with suspicion. "What an unusual skill," she thought, her gaze shifting to Tyler. She noted his unusual attire: no armor, no visible weapon, and most strikingly, no hunter''s badge around his neck¡ªno necklace at all.
"Come on, Tyler, let''s go," Grone said, already turning and walking away from the scene.
"Wait!" the woman called out, her voice sharp. She pointed at Tyler. "You¡ª"
"Yeah?" Tyler replied, wondering what she wanted.
"You''re not a hunter, are you?" she stated, her eyes assessing him.
"What does that have to do with you?" Grone interjected, his tone hardening.
Rebecca grinned, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "You do know that entering a monster zone without a hunter''s license carries a penalty, right? Even if you''re just passing through."
"What?" Tyler exclaimed, his surprise evident.
"What are you trying to do here?" Grone demanded, his patience wearing thin.
Rebecca''s grin widened. "If you give me the materials you have, I won''t report this. Of course, if you refuse¡ we both know what happens," she said, the threat hanging heavy in the air.
Anger surged within Grone. He looked down at Rebecca''s chest, spotting a D-rank hunter''s badge. "You''ve got some guts, little girl," he said, taking a step closer, his voice low and dangerous.
"We outnumber you," Grone said, his voice dangerously low. "What if we end you right here and take all your gear, huh?" Tyler was taken aback by the threat; he''d never considered killing someone before.
"Oh yeah? You think I''m the only one in this forest? My partners aren''t far from here. I''m sure they''ll hear if I scream or call to them," Rebecca countered, her confidence unwavering.
"You''re bluffing," Grone scoffed.
"You really think so?" she challenged, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Grone," Tyler interrupted, "let''s just give her the Hexhorn materials. We already have more than we need for the quest."
Before Grone could respond, the materials materialized on the ground¡ªthe Hexhorn husks expertly cleaned, dry, and neatly arranged with six horns resting on top. Rebecca stared, surprised by the sudden, efficient display.
"Why would you do that?" Grone asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "How do you know she''s not going to report us anyway?"
"Don''t worry about it, I''m going to report you," Rebecca said, picking up one of the horns from the neatly arranged pile. "But if you don''t get out of here soon, some hunters will most likely come through here," she added, a hint of something other than malice in her tone.
Grone clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Let''s go."
Tyler followed Grone, glancing back one last time at Rebecca. Surprisingly, the confident, predatory grin was gone, replaced by a look that seemed almost¡ scared. Their eyes met for a split second before Tyler looked away and continued walking.
"Phew¡ That was a close one," Rebecca thought, relieved. "I was lucky his partner bought the bluff; otherwise, I would have been in trouble. That man was a C-rank hunter; even if he was alone, I wouldn''t have been able to overpower him." She picked up a husk, examining it closely. "This ability of his¡ I''ve never heard of anything like it," she murmured to herself.
"Not only did he make it appear again, but it''s completely clean," Rebecca mused, her voice low. "If people knew about his ability, I bet guilds would fight over him." She slipped the Hexhorn horns into her pocket. "My D-rank quest was to hunt a Brocklin here, but this looks like C-rank monster material. I''ll fetch a good price with these," she said, hoisting the husk onto her shoulder. "That loser of an uncle better pay me my silver when I get back."
Meanwhile, Tyler and Grone found a narrow part of the river, a natural rock crossing where the water was shallow enough to jump across. They crossed easily. Tyler remained silent, his mind preoccupied. He thought about the quest reward¡ªthe gold from the base was expected, but the system had also promised a recipe for his success. He wondered what that would be.
As Tyler and Grone walked through the bushes, a wave of relief washed over him as the Crossroads base came into view. They approached the entrance, and Grone''s sword hilt, catching the sunlight, momentarily distracted Tyler. It reminded him of his own broken weapons¡ªthe bashing hammer and copper dagger, both shattered beyond repair, reduced to dust.
As Grone and Tyler entered the Crossroads base, Grone said, "Hey, give me the materials." Without a word, Tyler produced six Hexhorn horns, which materialized in his hand, and handed them to Grone. "Let''s go," Grone said, and they headed towards the main tent.
Inside, the scene was typical of a hunter''s base. Hunters were accepting quests, submitting completed ones, and chatting amongst themselves. All were clad in armor and carried weapons¡ªdaggers, axes, and swords were all visible.
Serena looked up as they approached. "Oh, hi! You already finished your quest?"
Grone nodded. "Yes," he said, handing her the six Hexhorn horns. Serena''s eyebrows rose in slight surprise. She turned to Tyler. "You didn''t go with him, right?"
"Oh no," Grone answered. "We met up again when I returned here. We were supposed to go to town together."
"Oh, okay," Serena said, taking the horns. "Let me just take these. Here we go."
Serena placed the quest flyer on the counter. "All you have to do is sign here, as always," she said. Grone took what looked like a pencil and signed the document. Tyler was surprised to see such a familiar object; he''d expected something more archaic, like the quill pens he''d seen in historical movies.
"Since this mission was worth 120 silver coins," Serena said, "I''ll just give you 12 gold coins." She ducked under the desk and placed the gold coins on the counter.
"Thanks," Grone said, starting to leave.
"Wait," Serena called out. "Aren''t you taking any more quests? There are still about four C-rank quests available right now."
"No, that''s all for now," Grone replied. "I''m heading to town."
Tyler was surprised. "Wasn''t I supposed to get a recipe from the system after completing a mission?" He felt a pang of disappointment.
Grone clapped him on the shoulder. "See? We did a good job. I''ll give you your share once we arrive in town."
Right then, Tyler saw a system text box appear before him, displaying:
C-Rank Quest Completed: Rewards:
Armor: Gloom Armor
Gloomfang Hides needed: 4
Before he could fully process this, another notification popped up:
Iron Axe
Iron Ores needed: 12
His excitement was quickly interrupted by yet another notification:The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Weak Healing Potion
Vital Flowers needed: 4
Water needed: 500ml
Vials Needed: 1 (can be crafted using Slime Cores)
Finally, one last notification appeared:
Quest Complete: All your stats have been raised by three points.
Grone looked at Tyler, who was standing still, staring blankly ahead. "What are you waiting for? Let''s go," Grone said.
"Oh, all right," Tyler replied, snapping out of his reverie.
They headed around the back of the tent, expecting to find a waiting wagon. To their surprise, there were no horses, no carriages, nothing.
"Where are they?" Tyler asked, confused.
Grone shrugged. "They''re probably in town waiting to bring people back here. Or maybe someone already took the carriages and left. Who knows? Anyways, we have to wait for them."
Tyler looked at Grone. "Oh, yeah, I have to tell you something."
"Remember when I said I was E-Rank?" Tyler said, a grin spreading across his face.
Grone frowned, "Yeah?"
"Well," Tyler continued, "I''m actually level 30."
"What?!" Grone exclaimed. "You''re level 30 now ? You did kill a lot of higher-level monsters, but to think you jumped about ten levels with one quest... that''s unheard of! Very impressive. I''m actually quite envious."
Tyler chuckled.
Grone shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "Well, you still have a long way to go. And remember, the more you level up, the harder it gets. Which means you need to kill higher-ranked monsters," Grone finished, the unspoken dangers of such a pursuit hanging heavy in the air.
After a minute of waiting, a wagon drawn by two horses appeared. "Oh, there it is," Tyler said.
"Yeah," Grone agreed. They noticed it was a different driver than usual. Grone greeted the man, who returned the greeting, though he seemed to ignore Tyler. Tyler didn''t mind; he took it as a general greeting to both of them. He climbed into the wagon, and they started their journey back to town.
Once they were underway, Grone turned to Tyler. "Are you ready to be a hunter?"
Tyler looked at Grone and said, "Yes, yes I am."
Grone looked at him with a concerned expression. "You know you almost died back there, right?"
Tyler looked down, the memory of his near-death experience flooding back. The terror, the feeling of his life slipping away¡ªit was horrifying, a sensation he never wanted to repeat. But he wouldn''t let that fear hold him back. Pain was the price of everything, wasn''t it? The price of being a hunter, the price of success. There was always pain with success. He looked back up at Grone and said,
"I know, but I won''t let that hold me back," Tyler said, his voice firm at first, then wavering slightly as self-doubt crept in. "I have to be a hunter. I have to level up. That''s the only way..." His sentence trailed off, the conviction fading as he questioned the truth of his own words.
Grone, sensing his hesitation, finished the thought for him. "Go home."
"No," Tyler said, shaking his head. "I don''t think I want to do that anymore."
Grone raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What? You don''t want to return to your world?"
Tyler hesitated, "Yeah," Tyler said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Nothing is there for me. All I ever was out there was a burden. I never had good luck with anything. I always took advantage of people''s kindness. But here... here I can become something more. I can live a life, actually become a higher-ranked hunter, can''t I?"
Grone looked at him thoughtfully. "But don''t you have family in the other world?"
"Yeah, but..." Tyler hesitated, then a small smile touched his lips. " My family never really loved me, in the first place."
"That''s a lie," Grone said, his voice sharp. "There''s no way someone¡ª" He stopped, his sentence cut short by Tyler''s confession.
"They all did," Tyler admitted, his voice low. "I don''t really blame them, and I don''t hate them for it either. It was all my fault, really. But here... here I can help out. As you can see, we did a quest together, didn''t we? And after I become a hunter, I may not be a burden to you anymore. I can actually help you with shopping and everything¡ªbuy food, buy furniture. I can help with a lot of things. Maybe eventually I can even get a place of my own." Tyler smiled, looking at Grone with a hopeful expression.
Grone looked at Tyler, a genuine smile now on his face. Then, with a slight hesitation, he asked, "Tyler, did you happen to hear anything while you were unconscious?"
"What?" Tyler asked, tilting his head.
"Did you hear anything I said when you were about to die?" Grone clarified.
Tyler remembered Grone''s words, the admission of a fatherly affection, but decided against revealing it. "No," he said, "I didn''t hear anything. Did you say anything?"
"No, I didn''t say anything," Grone replied. "I just wanted you to wake up, that''s all. I actually thought you were dead for a second there."
"I thought I was too," Tyler said, "but it seems that whenever I level up, I heal, and my exhaustion lessens a bit."
"Huh," Grone said, thoughtfully. "That is very useful."
As they approached the town, the driver, who had been listening to their conversation, glanced back, a puzzled expression on his face. Grone talking to this young man about another world, about healing with each level-up¡ it was all very unusual. It sounded vaguely familiar, yet somehow profoundly wrong.
The wagon pulled up to the marketplace, and Grone and Tyler hopped down. Grone removed a gold coin and offered it to the driver.
"Gold?" the driver said, surprised. "Oh, I don''t really have change for that right now."
"All right," Grone said, taking back the gold coin and replacing it with a silver one and six copper. He handed the silver coin to the driver. Then, with a nod to the driver, Grone and Tyler walked off into the bustling marketplace.
Grone walked alongside Tyler. "Oh, we''re not going home by the way," Grone said. "We''re going to the Guildhall."
"Guildhall?" Tyler asked, a little surprised.
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "It''s on the edge of town; you''ll see it when we''re near. It''s a very big building. That''s where you''ll register as a hunter. You want to do it today, don''t you?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah," Tyler said, though his heart was beating a little faster. He was nervous, but this was what he wanted, what he was supposed to do. He wouldn''t let fear stop him now; it was too late for that.
He and Grone continued walking, past Hector''s shop. Instead of turning left towards Grone''s house, they went straight, down a road Tyler had never traveled before. Then he saw it¡ªa massive building, far larger than he''d imagined. As they approached, he noticed a small clearing in front of the Guildhall, and in the center, a surprisingly small fountain. "Fountains here?" he thought, surprised by this unexpected touch of elegance.
"Well, I shouldn''t be surprised," Tyler muttered to himself. "I mean, I was pretty surprised when I realized they had flushing toilets here. The wooden seat was a bit off, but a flushing toilet? Not that surprising, really, since they don''t need electricity. But to think they have that kind of plumbing... Anyway..."
He shook his head, pushing aside his musings about sanitation. They were nearing the entrance now. The Guildhall was enormous, a sprawling building that dwarfed even his expectations. Inside, a large hall stretched before him, bustling with activity. A long counter ran along one side, staffed by both men and women, presumably guild officials. Hunters milled about, some accepting quests, others lounging at tables, engaged in lively conversations. The sheer scale of the place was impressive, a testament to the importance of the hunter''s guild in this world.
The entrance itself was impressive. A massive, double-doored opening, more of a wide archway than a traditional door, stood before them. The floor beneath their feet was polished wood, gleaming under the light. Beyond the counter, which stretched the length of the hall, Tyler noticed a small passageway on either side, leading to what he assumed were upstairs areas. Behind the guild officials, numerous quest flyers and postings were affixed to large notice boards, a chaotic yet organized display of available missions. The whole scene hummed with a vibrant energy, a mix of anticipation and camaraderie.
Grone and Tyler approached the counter, where a man with brown hair stood waiting. "Hi, how can I help you?" the man asked.
"We''re here to¡ª" Grone began, then gestured to Tyler. "¡ªmy friend here is here to apply for a hunter''s badge."
The man''s gaze shifted to Tyler, assessing him with a brief, appraising look. "Please wait a moment," he said, before turning and heading upstairs. Tyler and Grone exchanged a look, then settled in to wait for the man''s return.
The man returned, saying, "Please come this way." Grone and Tyler started to move towards the side passage beside the counter. Before Tyler could pass, however, the man stopped Grone. "Sorry, only he''s allowed. You''re already a hunter, right?"
Grone nodded. "Oh, okay."
Tyler shot a nervous glance at Grone, who gave him a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, kid. It''ll be all right."
Tyler then followed the man through the passage and up the stairs. Reaching the upper level, or balcony, he saw a door at the end of a short hallway.
The man opened the door, holding it open for Tyler to enter. Stepping inside, Tyler gasped. The room was enormous, easily the size of a dojo or martial arts training hall. In the far corner, behind a large desk, sat a man wearing glasses¡ªreminiscent of the officials he''d seen at the crossroads base. On the wall beside the man, Tyler spotted a familiar orb, the kind used to assess a hunter''s level.
"What are you waiting for?" the man said, gesturing towards the desk. "Come in."
Tyler approached the desk. In the far corner, a man with neatly combed white hair sitting on a wodden chair with one leg crossed over the other, sipping from a teacup. Tyler sat down. "Good evening," he said to the man behind the desk.
"Good evening," the man replied. "I hear you wish to become a hunter."
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
"And your name is...?"
"Tyler Evans," Tyler answered.
The man''s eyebrow rose slightly. "Evans? I don''t believe I''ve heard that name before." He leaned forward, his gaze steady. "So, Tyler, why do you want to be a hunter?"
Tyler''s nervousness grew. Why he wanted to be a hunter? He hadn''t anticipated an interview, a grilling of his motivations. He stammered, "Oh, um, I¡ª"
The man chuckled. "Ha, I''m just joking with you. I don''t really care why you want to be a hunter. People have all sorts of reasons, and frankly, I hate them all. So tell me something else. What do you think your level is?"
Tyler hesitated. He wanted to state his level, but then remembered the man likely didn''t know about his hidden skill, and he wasn''t ready to reveal that yet.
"Um, I don''t know my specific level," Tyler said, "but I think I might be E-rank by now, right?"
"Good answer," the man said, a hint of amusement in his tone. He then called out, "Clyde!"
A man in the corner, sipping tea, responded, "Yeah?"
"Come over here and stop being a bum! I told you to stay close so you can assess new hunters!"
"All right, all right, I''m coming," Clyde grumbled, muttering under his breath, "There aren''t always new hunters anyway. We get maybe two a week in this town...or just one." He then approached the desk. The man turned to Tyler. "Clyde, use your uncover skill on this one."
Tyler stared at Clyde, his eyes widening in surprise as Clyde''s eyes began to glow an eerie white. A system notification then appeared before Tyler:
Clyde Rock has used skill [Uncover]. Skill resisted.
Clyde gasped, stumbling backward, clutching at his eyes. The man at the desk stood abruptly. "Clyde, what''s wrong?"
Clyde removed his hands, revealing the shocking sight of blood welling up in his eyes. The system''s resistance to Clyde''s skill was clearly causing him pain.
Clyde glared at Tyler, a furious expression twisting his features. He grabbed Tyler by the collar. "What the fuck are you trying to do, huh?"
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, completely bewildered.
The man behind the desk intervened. "Clyde, what the hell are you doing? What happened?"
"This little brat also has the Uncover skill!" Clyde snarled, his voice tight with anger. "You know if you block someone trying to Uncover you, you can hurt them! Why did you do that? Why did you tell us your level? We could have just checked you using the orb!"
"I don''t know what you''re talking about¡ª" Tyler started to protest, but before he could finish, Clyde punched him hard, sending him stumbling backward.
Tyler glared back at Clyde, the urge to retaliate burning in his chest. But then he saw it¡ªa system notification hovering above Clyde''s head: Clyde Rock:Lvl 104. Shock rippled through him. 104? He glanced at the man behind the desk, and another notification appeared: James Frost Lvl 155. The sheer power radiating from these men was overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Tyler repeated, "I said I don''t know what you''re talking about."
"Oh yeah?" Clyde sneered, lifting his fist. A faint blue glow emanated from his knuckles. James intervened sharply, "Stop! Are you trying to kill him?"
"Do you see what this bastard did to my face?" Clyde retorted, wiping at the blood still welling from his eyes. "I''m not using my Uncover skill anymore. I don''t think I''ll be able to use this for a whole week. We''ll just have to use the orb from now on." James Frost turned his gaze to Tyler, his expression serious. "Why didn''t you tell me?"
"Are you stupid?" Clyde exploded. "Uncover skills don''t malfunction! Plus, even if they did, why would blood just suddenly burst out of my eyes, huh? You''re probably just getting too old for this!"
James Frost raised a hand, silencing Clyde instantly. Tyler stared, dumbfounded, as Clyde''s mouth vanished completely. He was humming, but no sound emerged. A system notification appeared: James Frost has used skill [Silence].
James said calmly, "Okay, time to use the ord."
"All right," Tyler said, approaching the orb. James instructed, "Put your hand on the orb." As Tyler complied, a blue light pulsed from the screen mounted on the wall above the orb. The results appeared:
E-Rank
Level 30
Class: Assassin
Tyler frowned, utterly confused. Assassin? The system had always listed his class as Craftsman. Why was this showing Assassin?
James touched his chin thoughtfully. "Huh, Assassin, huh? You''re pretty lucky, kid. Many people don''t actually get the Assassin class."
"Why did I get the Assassin class?" Tyler asked. A system notification popped up: User is currently equipped with an Assassin item: Copper Dagger.
James Frost, not noticing the notification, said, "Well, I don''t know, kid. No one really knows why they get their classes, but you''re lucky to even have a class at all. Anyways, come sit down with me."
Tyler and James sat opposite each other at the desk. Clyde remained silent, still humming to himself.
Tyler looked at Clyde, whose frustrated humming filled the silence. "Ummm," Tyler started, but James interrupted.
"Don''t worry, it''ll wear off. I always do that to him when he''s annoying. Anyways, since you''re a Level 30 E-rank, what have you been doing to reach that level without being a hunter? Let me guess, you were farming, right?"
"Well, not exactly," Tyler replied. "I was training."
James nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that explains it. It was probably a good idea. Most people train before they come to assess their levels and take on being a hunter, thinking they''ve raised their levels far more than they actually have."
James Frost slid a document across the desk towards Tyler. Tyler was surprised; the language was completely unfamiliar, yet he understood it perfectly. James said, "Just sign where it needs to be signed."
"Oh, okay," Tyler replied.
James raised an eyebrow. "You do know how to read, right? I mean, some... most of the poorer folk don''t, so maybe I can sign for you."
"Yeah, sure, I know how to read," Tyler admitted, "but I really don''t know how to write."
"Oh, okay," James said, taking the document back. "You said your name was Tyler Evans, right?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
James wrote Tyler''s name on the document. "And you are level 30. I want to hear you say that yourself."
"Yes, I am a level 30," Tyler confirmed. James wrote it down. "And you want to be a hunter, correct? Tell us that."
"Yes, I want to be a hunter," Tyler stated.
Suddenly, both James and Tyler heard Clyde mutter, "A very stupid hunter," under his breath. Tyler was startled to see Clyde''s mouth had reappeared. Tyler immediately regretted the return of Clyde''s mouth, since he was already mocking him, his expression a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.
James Frost sighed. "Well, that''ll be all for now." He opened a drawer in his desk and produced a necklace. Tyler took it, examining it closely. At first glance, it seemed copper, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was bronze. The single letter ''E'' was etched into the pendant.
"Thank you," Tyler said, looking up at James.
"You''re welcome," James replied. He turned to Clyde. "Clyde, you may escort him."
Clyde scoffed. "Why would I want to escort this piece of crap?"
"All right, Tyler, you may leave," James said.
"Oh, all right," Tyler replied. He examined the necklace again, noticing small hooks at the end of each chain. He hooked them onto the back of his neck, securing the necklace. Then he left the room.
Groon saw Tyler descending the stairs. He noticed a slight injury on Tyler''s face. Groon was concerned, but Tyler''s surprisingly cheerful demeanor was confusing. Groon decided he needed to hear what Tyler had to say.
As soon as Tyler reached the first floor, the man who had brought him to the room asked, "How did things go?"
"It went well, as you can see," Tyler replied, gesturing to the E-rank necklace.
The man''s face fell. "Oh, you''re an E-Rank?" His disappointment was palpable, and Tyler felt a pang of his own disappointment in return. E-Rank was, after all, the lowest hunter rank. The man continued, "Oh, okay. We can''t really give you an E-rank quest here."
"Oh, it''s fine," Tyler said, trying to sound unconcerned.
He then approached Grone. Grone looked at him and exclaimed, "Oh, so you''re a hunter now? That''s great!"
Tyler smiled. "Yes!"
Grone''s expression shifted to concern. "But what happened to your face? It''s bruised."
"Oh, it''s fine," Tyler said. "It was just a misunderstanding."
"Yeah, but what happened?" Grone pressed.
Tyler explained about the Uncover skill and how Clyde Rock had punched him.
"Oh, so that''s what happened," Grone said thoughtfully. "Why didn''t you want to tell them you have the Uncover skill?"
"I don''t know," Tyler admitted. "I just don''t feel like revealing it yet."
Grone smiled. "You''re a pretty smart kid. You should keep that a secret. That would be a good thing to do, even in battle."
"Well, let''s go," Grone said, and Tyler, now officially a hunter, stepped out of the guild hall and into the town.
As they walked, a man wearing a clearly visible D-Rank hunter''s necklace approached them. "Oh, hey guys," he said.
"Hello," Grone replied.
"Hi," Tyler added.
The man continued, "Okay guys, I have a proposal for you. I want you to join my guild."
Grone and Tyler simultaneously exclaimed, "What?"
Chapter 31: Defense And A Rush
Tyler and Grone stood before the D-rank hunter, who had stopped them in their tracks. Grone, unimpressed, brushed past the man, muttering, "Not interested." He turned to see Tyler still engaged in conversation with the hunter.
"Just hear me out," the man said. "There are a lot of advantages to being a guild member."
Grone returned, his tone skeptical. "There are a lot of disadvantages, too. Why would a D-rank hunter want to start a guild anyway? You should be A-rank and above for that."
"I know," the hunter replied, "but we work together, we can build a guild faster. Some people have already done this before. Listen, I was already part of a guild before, so I know how everything works. With your help, I can build a guild from the ground up."
Tyler looked at the desperate-looking man and said, "Sorry, but I just recently became a hunter. As of right now, I just came from collecting my hunter''s badge," he added, placing a hand on his E-rank necklace.
The hunter said, "Oh, that''s all right, I''ll teach you everything you need to know about hunting."
Gron interrupted, "I can teach him what he needs to know about hunting; he doesn''t have to join a guild." He looked at Tyler. "Tyler, listen, joining a guild can be very dangerous. You don''t need to trust some random people to help you reach success in life. Lots of people have been betrayed and killed in guilds, and there''s nothing anyone can do about it."
The man started to say, "That''s..." but was cut off. "It''s not that I don''t want to join your guild," Tyler explained. "It''s just that I want to learn how to really hunt on my own. Plus, as I said, I just became a hunter, so I don''t think I want to join a guild right off the bat. I''ll think about your offer when I''ve achieved a higher rank, but for now, I just want to hunt on my own." Tyler then walked off with Grone, leaving the disappointed D-rank hunter behind.
The man muttered, "Damn it." Then, he said, "They do have a point. Why would anyone want to make a deal with a D-rank? It looks like I''ll have to really rank up first to gain people''s trust and judgment. Well, then I''ll just have to go and accept some really difficult quests." He sighed and walked off in the opposite direction.
As Tyler and Grone walked, Tyler looked at Grone and asked, "Why don''t you want me to join a guild?"
Grone said, "Guilds can be dangerous, Tyler. You don''t just join a group of people and expect to work with them, especially if they''re already established. Remember when we go into monster zones? There''s no one else there to witness anything. People can kill you, take your gear, and no one would be the wiser. They could report you as dead, killed by a monster, when they were the real killers. Plus, even if you''re starting a hunting group with someone, they can betray you. You shouldn''t just trust everyone who says they''ll help you. Understand that.
Tyler remembered Grone''s threat against the girl they''d found in the woods. He looked at Grone and asked, "Grone, have you ever killed someone?"
Grone was momentarily taken aback by the direct question, but continued walking. He looked at Tyler and said, "Yes, I did kill someone before."
Tyler was shocked. Grone didn''t seem like the type to kill someone¡ªat least, not now that he knew him.
Grone continued, "It''s a very long story, but it was something I had to do. It was either their life or mine."
Grone looked at Tyler and said, "Listen, I know your old world was probably hard, but this world can be worse. I don''t really know what your world was like, but let me ask you this: have you ever witnessed a murder?"
Tyler replied, "Well, no. I once saw someone die, but I never actually witnessed a murder."
"You saw someone die before?" Grone asked.
"Yes," Tyler said. "It was a car accident, but that was a very long time ago. Why are you asking me this?"
Grone said, "When you become a hunter, you will probably witness a murder. Well, you will, and probably not just one. I''m certain you''ll witness one, but maybe more."
Tyler said, "What? Why is that?"
Grone explained, "Well, you see, when people go into monster zones, they tend to fight and kill each other there. It happens a lot. The hunter business is very dangerous. That''s why most people don''t become hunters. It''s a job with money and fame; you''ll be respected, you''ll level up, and gain power. But it''s very dangerous. You already know that. You were already beaten by a hunter, remember?"If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Tyler said, "Yeah, I remember." He sighed. "You really should have told me this before I became a hunter."
Grone chuckled and hit Tyler playfully on the back. "Would you have said no if I told you that?"
Tyler admitted, "Probably not."
They both continued walking, turning right onto the street where Grone''s house was located.
Grone said, "Oh, I almost forgot about something."
"What is it?" Tyler asked.
Grone said, "I wanted to give you this once you officially became a hunter." He handed Tyler six gold coins. "Remember when I told you I''d get this for you once we arrived in town?"
Tyler said, "Oh, I totally forgot about that! Thank you!"
Grone replied, "No, thank you. Because of you, I was able to complete that quest." A bitter excitement¡ªthe thrill of his first earned gold, and a significant amount at that¡ªcrept inside Tyler as he looked at the coins.
The coins shimmered blue, then separated and went into Tyler''s inventory. They continued walking until they reached Grone''s house. Grone opened the door, and they entered the sitting room, which was empty. Grone looked to the right, saw his bedroom door open, and then saw Lisa, his wife, emerge from the room.
Lisa said, "Good evening. How was your hunt?"
Grone replied, "It went well. And guess what?"
Lisa said, "What?"
Grone said, "Tyler''s a hunter now."
Lisa gasped in surprise. She went over to Tyler, saw the E-Rank necklace, and exclaimed, "Wow, you really are a hunter now! Have we leveled up that much already?"
Tyler smiled. "Yes, I''m a level 30 now."
Lisa looked at Grone with a concerned expression. "Just how much training did you put him through?"
Grone said, "It wasn''t that hard, right, Tyler?"
Tyler nervously chuckled. "Yeah, it wasn''t that hard. It wasn''t that hard at all."
Lisa smiled, gently fixing Tyler''s hair with her hands. "You have to stop lying to me. I knew it was pretty hard for you to get to this level this fast. Anyway, I''ll have to cook something for you guys. You''re hungry, right?"
"Yes," Grone and Tyler said simultaneously.
She chuckled, walking off towards the kitchen. "Okay, you guys rest while I make us food, okay?"
Grone said, "All right," taking off his bag.
Tyler went into his room and threw himself onto the small bed, resting against it. He was already used to the slightly hard exterior; it was still squishy and comfortable enough. He opened his status screen and looked at his stats.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 30
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 98/98 MP: 93/93
STR: 87 AGI: 75
DEF: 69 STM: 71
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skill:
He realized all his stats had increased by three points each due to completing the C-ranked mission. He sat up, remembering he had the materials to craft the items the system had shown him. He recalled the recipes and then said, "System, craft Gloom Armor." A text box appeared, displaying: Craft Armor (Yes/No) ,and Tyler replied, "Yes, craft Gloom Armor."
The system replied: Crafting... Tyler watched the loading bar, his eyes narrowing as it slowly filled. He waited, and waited, the anticipation building. Finally, the bar filled, and the message Crafting Success! appeared. Tyler was excited to see the item he''d crafted. He already had the four eyes needed, he recalled. He got off the bed, standing on the floor, ready to equip the armor.
He went to his inventory and selected the item''s icon. A separate status window appeared, displaying: Gloom Armor. Tyler was surprised. It had 70 Defense. Below that, it read: Skill: Rush. Tyler was even more surprised. "Seventy defense and a skill?" He just had to equip it. He said, "Equip," and something happened. His clothes shimmered, and the Gloom Armor appeared on him.
The Gloom Armor was striking. It wasn''t quite a robe, but it shared some similarities. A long, flowing garment, almost cloak-like in its length, reached past his knees. The fabric itself seemed to shift subtly in the light, a deep, midnight blue with a soft, almost ethereal sheen. The sleeves were long and wide, flaring slightly at the wrists, and adorned with an intricate pattern: three concentric circles, perfectly rendered, repeated along the length of each sleeve. The high collar stood up sharply, framing his neck, and the overall cut was surprisingly fitted despite the flowing length, accentuating his physique without being restrictive. It wasn''t bulky or heavy-looking; instead, it gave an impression of both power and grace, a garment that seemed both practical and elegant, the kind of attire one might expect a powerful, yet subtly mysterious, mage or warrior to wear.
Tyler looked at the armor, then at his hands. "Wow," he breathed, "this looks absolutely amazing." He added, "I wish I had a mirror in my room so I could actually check myself out." He then checked his stats.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 30
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 98/98 MP: 93/93
STR: 87 AGI: 75
DEF:139 STM: 71
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skill: Rush- MC 17
Tyler was surprised. His defense was now in the three digits¡ªit was almost hard to believe. One of his stats had broken into three digits, and his HP was close behind. He thought, "It''s actually crazy how the system works". If i kept leveling up, I''d receive more HP, meaning i would survive longer in battle. He then said, "Hey system, can you give me any information on the Rush skill?"
Tyler was surprised that the system answered him. A notification appeared: Rush Skill: Multiplies user speed by 30% for five minutes when activated. Tyler was surprised. This was a very useful skill. He said, "No wonder those Gloomfangs were so fast whenever they activated that skill; I could barely see them."
Tyler unequipped the armor, and his own clothes reappeared. He went outside and into the kitchen, where he saw Lisa cooking at the stove. He still didn''t quite understand how the stove worked. It looked like a gas stove, but he couldn''t see any gas lines or tanks. He didn''t dwell on it; he simply grabbed a wooden cup and went to the water barrel in the corner, filling the cup before returning to his room. Tyler sat on the bed, pondering the alchemy skill. It was probably why he''d been given a potion recipe, and he already had the necessary water. All he needed was a vial. He said, "Craft vial," and the system responded, Craft item (Yes/No) Tyler said, "Yes." Unlike the armor, there was no loading bar. The system instantly replied: Crafted item and a vial materialized in his outstretched hand made of glass.
He muttered, "What do I do here?" He poured the water from the cup into the vial; it fit perfectly. He asked again, "Um, what do I do exactly here?" He then said, "Craft potion," and the vial in his hand vanished. The system instantly replied: Potion has been made. Tyler was surprised by the speed. He opened his palm, and the completed potion vial appeared.
The potion''s liquid glowed faintly, a vibrant green. Tyler asked, "What do I do with this?" The system quickly replied: Consuming the potion will recover 30% of the usurer''s health. Tyler was surprised. This would be very efficient. He wondered what would happen if he drank it now.
He wondered what it would taste like. He said, "Oh well," and gulped down the potion. The liquid was warm as it went down, a strange flavor. It tasted like water, but with an undercurrent of something like a powdered drink mix¡ªa hint of lemon, yet somehow distant and not entirely pleasant. After he finished, a system notification appeared: Achievement Unlocked: The Potion Secret: User has drunk the potion at full health resulting in two additional HP points. He was surprised. "Wait," he said, "if I drink this every time I''m at full health, does that mean I can keep adding points to my HP?" The system then reappeared: Plus Virality.
" Wait, What?"
Chapter 32: In A Dungeon
Sitting in his room, Tyler looked at his system status again. "Virality?" he muttered. "Wait, doesn''t that have something to do with my sex drive? Why is that suddenly upgraded?" He scratched his head. "Well," he conceded, "it''s not like I don''t need it." He thought of Mike, his friend. Mike would probably be ecstatic right now. "I think he had some issues with that kinda stuff," he mumbled, remembering their past conversations.
He checked his inventory: six gold and two copper. He did a quick mental calculation. "Six gold means sixty silver, and sixty silver is six hundred copper... that''s six hundred and two copper total." A grin spread across his face. "I have an idea on how to make a lot of money," he thought. "I just have to go to Hector and talk about it. Maybe he''ll help me out." He chuckled. "To think, I actually killed a lot of monsters today."
He stood up and stretched, the inventory screen vanishing. "Lucky for me the icons for coins and metal ores are different," he muttered, "otherwise I''d be confusing this stuff a lot." He mentally unequipped the Gloom Armor, and it disappeared. Stepping out of his room, he found Lisa still cooking and Grone sitting at the table, staring into space.
"Ah, Tyler, where are you off to?" Grone asked, looking up.
"Oh, I''m headed to Hector''s. I need to speak with him," Tyler replied.
"About what?" Grone inquired.
Tyler paused at the doorway. "I''ll tell you all about it when I get back. It''s a surprise!" He closed the door behind him. Stepping outside, he glanced at the sun. It was past 2 PM, he estimated.
He walked down the road toward Hector''s shop. A noise from a nearby alleyway caught his attention. It was dark, shadowed by the buildings. Suddenly, a man ran out, someone Tyler recognized¡ªan A-Rank Hunter who''d attacked him before. His body tensed.
"Get out of the way!" the man shouted, bumping slightly against Tyler''s shoulder as he sprinted past, clearly fleeing someone.
From the alley, a woman emerged, her red dress a stark contrast to her dark hair, pulled back in a tight band. "Hey! Please stop him! He took my money!" she cried.
Curiosity overriding caution, Tyler looked in the direction the man had fled, checking the Hunter''s level.
Tyler saw the system display the fleeing man''s level, floating above his head like a malevolent halo: Bernardo Hats: LVL 30. "Wait," Tyler breathed, "he''s the same level as me?" He glanced at the direction Bernardo was sprinting, a blur of frantic movement against the drab backdrop of the alley. The woman, her red dress a vibrant splash of color against the grimy brick, was still panting, her chest heaving, a testament to the chase she''d just endured. Her eyes, wide and desperate, fixed on Tyler, silently pleading for help.
A decision solidified in Tyler''s mind. He didn''t hesitate. With a practiced motion, he mentally equipped the Gloom Armor. A wave of cool energy washed over him as the midnight blue fabric materialized, shimmering with an ethereal sheen, the three concentric circles on the sleeves pulsing faintly. Then, the activation of the Rush skill. The world seemed to sharpen, sounds intensifying, colors becoming more vivid. The Rush Skill Activated notification flashed before his eyes, a fleeting message in the whirlwind of his senses.
Time seemed to distort. The cobblestones blurred beneath his feet, the buildings rushing past in a kaleidoscope of grey and brown. He wasn''t running; he was becoming speed itself. A blur of motion, a phantom, a whisper of wind cutting through the air. The sounds of his own breathing, the woman''s gasps, Bernardo''s panicked footfalls¡ªall were compressed, distorted, into a single, high-pitched whine. Then, as abruptly as it began, the acceleration ceased. He stood, not merely in front of Bernardo, but within Bernardo''s personal space, the A-Rank Hunter''s eyes widening in shock, his body frozen mid-stride, his breath catching in his throat. The sudden appearance of Tyler, a figure materialized from thin air, was utterly breathtaking.
"Oh, it''s you from before," Bernardo snarled, his eyes narrowed. "I don''t have time for this crap. Get out of my way, you chead bastard!" He launched a fist at Tyler.
Surprisingly, Tyler caught the blow, his hand closing around Bernardo''s knuckles. The impact, which should have been devastating, was absorbed without effect. A dull thud was the only sound. Tyler''s face was a mask of anger.
"Cheap bastard, huh? You keep stealing money from people. Who''s the real cheap one here?" Bernardo dropped the pouch of coins he held in his other hand. He tried to yank his fist free, but Tyler''s grip was firm and unwavering. Bernardo''s eyes widened in surprise. He looked down at Tyler''s neck, noticing the E-Rank necklace.
"What the hell...?" Bernardo breathed, his voice laced with disbelief.
Bernardo, enraged, launched a fist at Tyler''s face with his free hand. Tyler, however, saw the fist coming in slow motion. He moved his head to the side, easily dodging the attack. Seizing the opportunity, he used his grip on Bernardo''s fist to pull the false ranker close, then unleashed a powerful punch to Bernardo''s gut. The force of the blow was immense; it knocked the air from Bernardo''s lungs, sending him sprawling five meters away from Tyler.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Bernardo groaned in pain, clutching his stomach, one eye squeezed shut. He looked back at Tyler, a single thought echoing in his mind: How is this possible? A low-ranked Hunter with this much power... this much skill?
Tyler picked up the pouch of coins and walked toward the fallen Bernardo.
Bernardo lifted his head, attempting to rise, but before he could, Tyler delivered a swift kick to his nose as he passed. Blood splattered, and a tooth flew across the cobblestones. Tyler didn''t stop; he simply continued walking, seemingly unfazed.
The woman watched, surprised, as Tyler approached. He stopped in front of her. "I''m sorry for the trouble that man caused you. Here is your money, ma''am," he said, handing her the pouch.
Slowly, she extended both hands to receive it. Looking at Tyler, she said, "Thank you."
"Oh, no problem," Tyler replied. "Just please be careful next time. And you better get out of here before he wakes up."
The woman nodded, murmuring another thank you before hurrying away, glancing back at the groaning Bernardo. Tyler then turned his attention back to the fallen false ranker.
Tyler walked over to Bernardo, who was groaning in pain. Crouching down, Tyler spotted the tooth he''d knocked out, lying on the cobblestones. He picked it up, examining it. "You know," Tyler said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "I lost a tooth too when you hit me that time." He touched the side of his jaw. "But it grew back when I leveled up."
Bernardo looked at him, groaning, "What the hell are you saying...?"
"You hit me a lot of times that time," Tyler continued, "so I think it''s only fair if I give you one final punch before I go where I was going. Am I right?" Tyler held out his fist. Bernardo watched, frozen with fear, as Tyler prepared to unleash another blow. Then, a voice called out, "Hey!" Tyler looked up.
Tyler saw a guard in silver armor, spear in hand, approaching. "What is happening here? Fighting in the streets of Veridia is a crime," the guard stated.
Tyler straightened up. "This guy robbed someone. He robbed me before and beat me up. I was just teaching him a lesson," Tyler explained.
The guard frowned. "Well, too bad. I''m taking both of you to jail."
"Wait, but that''s not fair! This was self-defense! He threatened to hit me first, and this is just the result," Tyler protested, his voice rising in anger.
The guard adopted a fighting stance, spear pointed at Tyler. "You don''t want me to use force."
Tyler stood straight, assessing the guard''s level: 54. He held up his hands. "Alright."
The guard, letting his guard down, looked at Bernardo on the ground. "Hey, you, get up." Bernardo slowly rose, wincing. Tyler was surprised when the guard produced a pair of shackles from behind his back. He had heard the clink of metal against metal when the guard assumed his fighting stance, but he hadn''t realized what the sound was until the shackles appeared.
The guard approached Bernardo, ordering him to hold out his hands. With practiced ease, he shackled them together. "You''re lucky I don''t have any more shackles," the guard said. "Now, let''s go."
"Go where" Tyler said flatly.
The guard turned back to Tyler, his expression hardening. "I said, follow me. And know this: if you try to runway, you''ll be on the bounty list, hunted down. Understand?"
"All right," Tyler said, and they continued walking. They walked for some time, Tyler noticing they were heading toward the side of the Guild Hall. Not far from the Guild Hall, he saw a building constructed of drab gray bricks; it looked neglected and poorly maintained. In the distance, he saw guards stationed at a doorway, the interior shrouded in darkness. He couldn''t make out what was inside.
A wave of unease washed over him. Was he really going to jail? He wondered how things were handled here. They wouldn''t just throw him in a cell and leave him to die, would they? Couldn''t he pay a fine, or serve a short sentence, or receive some other form of punishment? The only person who truly deserved a harsh punishment was the man he''d just fought.
"How did I end up here?" Tyler thought. "Oh, right. I was just helping someone in need, and this happened." As they neared the building, a guard called out, "Hey, Bob, who are those guys behind you?"
The guard escorting Tyler and Bernardo replied, "Just a couple of criminals who were fighting down the street. I had to bring them in."
"Whoa, and they actually listened like that? Or did you struggle a bit? I can see you''re not hurt, though."
The escorting guard said, " Strangely enough No, they didn''t. But that only made it easier," he added, glancing at Tyler.
"Here we are," the guard announced. "Time for you guys to enter the dungeon."
"Wait, wait a minute!" Tyler protested. "We''re just going to enter the dungeon, and you guys aren''t going to say anything first?"
"What? You want to negotiate? You''ll have to speak to the noble first," the guard said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I doubt you can say anything that will make him let you go."
"Noble?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah," the guard replied. "You''re not from around here, are you? No wonder you were causing so much trouble. Anyways, go inside."
As they stepped inside, the air grew heavy with the stench of mildew and decay. Torches flickered on the walls, casting long, dancing shadows that distorted the already grim architecture. Rough-hewn stone cells lined both sides of the corridor, their barred doors mostly empty, save for the occasional glint of metal from a discarded bucket or a stray piece of equipment. The floor was uneven, cold stone worn smooth in places by countless feet, and damp in others where water seeped from unseen cracks. A chilling dampness clung to the air, heavy and oppressive. The overall impression was one of neglect and despair, a place where hope went to die. Then, to his left, Tyler saw someone familiar¡ªthe girl who had tried to sell him the stolen dagger. He turned back to the guard.
"Listen," Tyler said, "I''d like to speak to the Noble."
The guard shoved him into a cell. "I''ll go talk to the Noble. Since you''re a Hunter, there''s a chance he''ll listen to you. But don''t expect anything else. And oh, if he doesn''t let you go... causing violence in the streets earns you a week in here, one meal a day¡ªand that meal is cockroaches." The guard disappeared.
Tyler put his hands on the bars of the cell, then recoiled. Something sticky and brown coated his fingers. "Ew," he muttered, wiping his hands on his clothes. From the opposite cell, directly across from him, sat the girl, staring intently.
A voice rasped from the other side of the girl''s cell, "This is all your fault." It was Bernardo, though Tyler hadn''t seen him put in a cell; he must have been placed there by the guard while Tyler''s attention was elsewhere.
"Maybe this wouldn''t have happened if you hadn''t gone around robbing people," Tyler retorted.
"Shut up, you cheap bastard! I''m doing this for a reason!" Bernardo snarled.
"Oh, and what reason could that be? Why would an E-Rank Hunter go around robbing people?" Tyler asked, then a detail clicked into place. Bernardo had been wearing no necklace today. "Why aren''t you even wearing your Hunter''s badge ?"
"It''s none of your business," Bernardo spat.
Tyler, realizing he was getting nowhere, decided to keep quiet, his gaze returning to the quiet girl in the cell opposite his.
She just looked at him; her eyes were swollen, clearly the result of crying. Tyler studied her more closely. He felt a pang of sympathy. She was wearing the same brown cloak, but it was dirtier now, and her posture spoke of profound sorrow.
"Hey," he said softly, "what did you get put in here for?"
The girl remained silent, bowing her head, ignoring him.
Then, Tyler heard footsteps approaching. A guard stood before his cell. The guard produced a key, and after a brief fumbling, unlocked the cell door. "Lord Dean will see you now," the guard said. Tyler stepped out and followed the guard.
Chapter 33: A Hunters Deal
Tyler, following the guard, saw the dungeon exit and the bright light beyond. The contrast with the dungeon''s darkness was stark. Bernardo, watching Tyler walk past his cell, wearing high-quality Gloom armor, thought, "What happened back there? One moment he wasn''t wearing this clothing, and the next he was. How did he do that? How can an E-rank like him afford that kind of gear?"
Tyler stepped out of the dungeon and saw a man with striking white hair. He was dressed in high-quality grey clothing: black leather shoes, grey trousers, a grey shirt, and what looked like a fine grey blazer. A sword was sheathed in a scabbard at his waist.
"Sir," the guard said, "I''ve brought the hunter."
Dean looked at Tyler''s necklace, his expression shifting from calm to anger. He struck the guard, causing Tyler to stumble back in surprise. "Why didn''t you tell me it was just an E-rank hunter?" Dean roared. "You think I like wasting my time with worthless garbage?" He turned to leave.
"I''m sorry, my lord," the guard stammered, clutching his nose.
"Wait!" Tyler called out. "You''re just going to take me back in there? Isn''t there anything I can do?"
Dean paused. The guard, nose bleeding, looked at Tyler. "You can pay a fine of twenty silver for fighting in the street," he said.
"Oh," Tyler said, "then you should have told me that earlier. I have two gold coins. I can give you that."
A smile crept onto Dean''s face.He looked at Tyler, assessing his gear. "He doesn''t have a weapon, but that armor... the quality is high. There''s no way that was cheap. He must be from no ordinary family," Dean mused.
"What''s your family name, young man?" Dean asked.
"Huh? Evans. My family name is Evans," Tyler replied.
"Evans? I haven''t heard of that family name before. It sounds as if the name itself doesn''t hold any meaning. Oh, and the payment for the crime you just committed is to be four gold," Dean stated, extending four fingers.
The guard looked at Tyler, wiping the blood from his nose. Tyler was surprised the guard''s nose bled so readily from a single slap.
"Four gold?" Tyler asked, surprised.
"Y-yes," the guard stammered.
"Alright then," Tyler said, reaching into his pocket. "People always get surprised when I summon things from my inventory and assume I''m a mage-hunter. I heard they''re skilled, so I don''t want any attention drawn to me right now." He subtly summoned the coins within his pocket, then withdrew his hand, revealing four gold coins.
The guard was surprised. He hadn''t expected the E-rank hunter to simply produce the gold as instructed. Nevertheless, he accepted the payment.
"Useless piece of garbage," Dean muttered, walking back toward the guard. "You didn''t think to take his belongings before putting him in the cell? I know you''re a new recruit, but are you that stupid?"
"Sir, but he didn''t look like he had anything on him at all¡ª" the guard began, but Dean cut him off with another slap.
"You make sure you search for items, even if they don''t look like they''re carrying any," Dean snapped. He snatched the gold coins from the guard''s hand and walked off.
The guard, looking at Tyler, said, "You''re free to go."
Tyler said, "Why do you let him treat you like that?"
The guard glared at Tyler. "Like what?"
"Nothing," Tyler replied.
The guard then approached Tyler and removed his shackles.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The guard turned to walk away.
"Wait," Tyler said.
"What now?" the guard said, turning back.
"I wanted to ask something. That girl who''s in there... what''s she in there for?" Tyler asked.
"Huh, a girl? Oh, that one. She''s in there for stealing. She stole a lot of stuff recently, got caught, and the victims apprehended her. She''ll be getting a punishment soon. Why do you ask?"
"I was just curious," Tyler said. "But is there a way she can get out of there? Is there a fine for stealing?"
"There is," the guard replied. "It depends on how much was stolen. With what she took... about three hundred copper and more... I''m guessing it would be about five gold to get her out."
"Five?" Tyler said, surprised.
"Oh, now that I think about it, it''s probably closer to seven gold," the guard corrected himself.
Tyler looked at him with a disappointed expression. "Are you scamming me, too?"
"Scamming? I don''t know what you''re talking about," the guard said defensively. "What do you think? I''m like that man you just met? I''m telling you like it is. What? You want to free her or something?"
"Um, no, I don''t even know her. I''ve only met her once..." Tyler said. "Can I go and speak to her?"
"You''re really trying to make me do more work for something I''m not paid enough for, aren''t you? Well, then, let''s go. You can''t go in there alone; you have to have a guard right next to you," the guard grumbled.
Tyler went back into the dungeon with the guard. He passed Bernardo''s cell, and the two exchanged a brief, hateful glance before Tyler looked ahead.
Tyler arrived at the girl''s cell. As soon as he stood before her with the guard, she looked up. Tyler smiled. "You''re Emily, right?"
The girl started, "What? How did you¡ª" but Tyler cut her off. "Do you want to get out of here?"
The guard interrupted. "Oh, so you really want to get her out? You''re going to pay for someone''s crimes you don''t even know?"
Emily looked up at Tyler with a confused expression. "Mister, you''re trying to help me?"
"Kinda," Tyler said. "Is there a way to reduce her sentence?"
"There is," the guard said, "but that''s not really going to help her."
"Why?" Tyler asked.
"Don''t you remember when I said she''s about to receive a punishment?"
"Yeah, but what do you mean by that?" Tyler asked.
"She''s going to get whipped tomorrow night," the guard said, "and that''s not the worst part. How should I put this... some guards like to... have fun with female prisoners before they apply the punishment they were told to."
"What? Is that allowed?" Tyler asked, incredulous.
"Not really," the guard admitted, "but no one would know, right? She''ll be bruised and battered from the whipping anyway, so no one will know she was... violated."
"That''s so wrong! Are you just okay with doing this?" Tyler said, disgusted.
"Are you stupid? Didn''t you hear the nobleman call me a new recruit? I''ve never done any of this shit. If you''re trying to help the girl, you should probably pay for her crimes tomorrow evening, or she''s just going to get whipped... and raped."
"What happens after that?" Tyler asked.
"She''ll be put back in her cell to spend two months in it, and then she''ll be let out," the guard said.
Tyler turned his attention to the girl. Fear was etched onto her face; her eyes were wide, and she was trembling slightly. She stood abruptly. "Pl-please help me," she pleaded, her voice shaking. "I''ll never steal again, I promise. Just please get me out of here." She squeezed the bars of her cell. Tears welled in her eyes. Tyler, shockingly to himself, found his thoughts drifting to her appearance. "Why do I suddenly think she looks pretty? She looks scared,"he thought.
"Don''t worry," Tyler said to Emily. "I''ll try to get you out of here."
"Oh, we have a gentleman here," the guard said sarcastically.
The guard''s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious expression. He looked at Emily. "She''s lying," he said.
"What?" Tyler asked, confused.
"This girl," the guard continued, "is probably an orphan. These people literally live off stealing. What are you going to do once you get her out? Are you going to offer her a place to stay, give her a job, pay her so she doesn''t starve to death?"
"Yes," Tyler said, quickly, surprising both the guard and Emily. Emily''s heart pounded at his words.
The guard said, "I didn''t expect you to say that."
"I''ll try," Tyler amended.
Emily looked down, a faint smile touching her lips. "Th-thank you," she whispered.
"Don''t thank me yet; I still haven''t done anything," Tyler said. "But don''t worry, I''ll be coming back tomorrow. I''m leaving now." He headed out of the dungeon.
Tyler muttered to himself, "Where was I headed to again? Oh, right, Hector''s shop. I''m pretty far now, aren''t I?" He started walking.
Back in his cell, Bernardo called out to the guard who was about to leave. "Hey! People just pay two gold as a fine for fighting in the streets, right? I have some with me."
"Oh," the guard said, "why didn''t you say that earlier?" He approached Bernardo''s cell, and Bernardo slipped two gold coins through the bars.
Tyler continued his walk, eventually reaching the marketplace and Hector''s shop. He entered, finding Hector sitting behind the counter.
"Hey, if it isn''t Tyler! I was wondering when you''d show up. I need some cleaning done here," Hector said.
"Oh, right, about that. I think I''ll get to that later, but first, I need to talk to you about something," Tyler said.
"You want to talk to me about what?" Hector asked.
"I was thinking of a business proposal, but first, I need to check something out," Tyler replied. "Check something out? What are you talking about?" Hector questioned.
Tyler extended his hand, and his copper dagger materialized. He tossed it to Hector. "Catch!"
Hector caught the dagger and examined it. "Woah, is this the copper dagger you wanted to craft? You said you couldn''t equip it..." He looked up at Tyler, noticing the E-rank hunter''s necklace around his neck. "You''re a hunter now?" he said, surprised.
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
"I went hunting with Grone," Tyler began, "and I actually managed to reach the level of an E-rank, enough to become a hunter. I''m level 30, so I thought, why not?"
Hector shook his head. "But hunting is dangerous. You could have made a little more money just working in the shop."
Tyler scoffed. "Doing what? Cleaning? You know I can''t really help you much with just cleaning. Plus, cleaning doesn''t really make a lot of money. So, I kind of had no choice."
"All right. It was your decision to make," Hector said. "But what is this business proposal you wanted to ask about?"
"Right, about that," Tyler said. "I wanted to craft some weapons and sell them in the shop. But you''ll be taking 25% of the money they make."
Hector considered this. "That''s not a bad deal, but I want 35%."
Tyler considered for a moment. "Deal. 35% is okay."
"How are you going to be crafting, though? Are you going to use my metal ores to do that? Because I can''t let you do that. You have to buy your own," Hector stated.
"Oh, so where can I buy them? Where do you get them?" Tyler asked.
"Oh, no, just go straight ahead to the marketplace," Hector directed. "You''ll see a shop with a sign that says, ''We Sell Materials.'' You''ll find them there."
Tyler nodded. "Oh, alright," he said, and walked out of the shop.
He was surprised by the familiar face behind the counter. It was the woman from earlier, the one he''d saved from Barnardo. She was still wearing her red dress.
"Oh, hi," he said, a little awkwardly.
The woman smiled warmly. "Hello. Your that young man who helped earlier today."
Chapter 34: Quest Accepted
Tyler looked at the woman, and her name and level appeared above her head like a halo: Anne Style: LVL 27, the system displayed. Anne gasped, recognizing him. "You''re the man who saved me earlier!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah, I''m¡ª" Tyler began, but she interrupted.
"My benefactor!!" she declared loudly.
"What?" Tyler said, confused.
"You saved me from being robbed! If it weren''t for you, I''d have lost everything. And you showed such incredible skill¡ªyou must be a high-ranked hunter to have stopped him so easily..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell upon his E-rank necklace. Surprise dawned on her face. "Wait a moment... you''re E-rank?" she asked, incredulous.
Tyler was surprised by her expression. He¡¯d expected disappointment at discovering he was only E-rank, but she seemed fascinated.
"Yeah, I''m E-rank. I''m actually here to¡ª" Tyler began, but she cut him off.
"How was an E-rank able to move like that? Unless you''re nearing D-rank levels? You were so fast! You''d have to be at least D-rank to move that quickly, or maybe you''re an assassin-type hunter? I''ve heard they''re incredibly fast, but I''ve never seen one in action¡ªuntil today, of course," she said with a chuckle. She continued on, but Tyler tuned out, already anticipating a lengthy explanation.
"She is so talkative..." Tyler thought.
Finally, she paused for breath. "Anyway," Anne said, "what can I help you with?"
"(Finally!) You sell minerals here, right? I want to buy some," Tyler said, relieved she''d finally stopped talking.
"You want to buy some minerals? Which ones exactly?" Anne asked.
"Okay, um... how much does copper mineral cost?" he asked.
"Oh, come and see for yourself," she said, heading into the room behind her.
Tyler followed. He stepped into a large room filled with enormous metal crates arranged in neat lines, each overflowing with different kinds of ore. The room was surprisingly spacious despite the sheer volume of materials. He saw copper minerals neatly organized in their own rows, alongside iron, steel, and silver, all similarly categorized.
"As you can see," Anne said, gesturing to the crates, "the materials are arranged from smallest to largest. The smaller copper pieces cost less than the larger ones."
"How much does the small copper cost per mineral?" Tyler asked.
"It costs 5 copper coins," Anne replied, "but since you helped me earlier, I''ll always remove one coin from the price of the materials you buy. How about that?"
"One coin?" Tyler asked, surprised by her generosity.
"Yeah," Anne confirmed with a sly smile. "So, for example, if something costs 5 silver, it''ll be 4 silver for you. Consider it a thank you, Benefactor."
"Oh, okay... Thank you. I want to buy enough small copper for 100 copper," Tyler said, extending his open palm. A gold coin shimmered into existence on top of it.
"Wow," Anne said, taking the coin, "are you a mage hunter, or is this another assassin skill I didn''t know about?"
"Something like that," Tyler replied cryptically.
"Alright, I''ll just have to get a sack from the corner there," Anne said, pointing to a stack of empty sacks in the corner.
"No, it''s alright, I have a place I can keep them," Tyler replied.
Tyler lifted one ore and saw it was quite small, part of it literally just rock. He then began taking the copper ores, letting them disappear into his inventory one by one. Anne watched, surprised by how the metal ores vanished. Tyler continued, counting aloud until he reached twenty-five. He automatically opened his inventory and saw that his total copper was only 18.
"Wait, is it because they''re too small?" he asked, looking at his inventory.
"How are you able to do that? Are you a mage hunter?" Anne asked, equally surprised.
"Nope, it''s my own special skill," Tyler said, putting a finger to his lips. "Just promise you won''t tell anyone about it, okay?"
"Okay, I won''t tell anyone," Anne promised. "But where do they keep disappearing to?" she asked, still curious.
"My inventory. Think of it as a big invisible bag I carry around... only I don''t," Tyler explained.
"Wow, that''s an amazing skill! Can you access it anytime you want? And how do you access it?" Anne asked, then gasped, her eyes widening. "Was that robe you were wearing in your...inevitoty?"
"It''s ''inventory,'' and yeah, it was. Anyway, I have to get going now, so bye," Tyler said, exiting the back room. He paused at the doorway. "When do you close the shop?"
"Oh, at sunset," Anne replied.
"I''ll come back tomorrow then," Tyler said, leaving the shop.
"Come again!!" Anne yelled after him, still marveling at his abilities. "Wow, he was amazing... What were those skills?" she wondered aloud.
"I''m glad I didn''t have to tell Hector why I threw him that copper dagger. It''s good that other people can use my weapons, but I can''t use theirs?That''s annoying, but I''m going to take advantage of it. I''m going to craft a lot of items and sell them in Hector''s store. I''m actually glad he agreed so easily. I thought he''d want to negotiate a lot of stuff, but with how things are going, I''m just glad it happened." Tyler thought headed back to Hector''s shop.
Tyler arrived at Hector''s shop, but Hector wasn''t at the counter. Entering the back room, Tyler found Hector crafting a sword, hammering a red-hot blade on the anvil. Sweat beaded on Hector''s brow as he worked, completely focused. Tyler yelled, "Hector!" Hector didn''t hear him. Tyler yelled again, "Hector!" This time, Hector looked up. "Oh, you''re back," he said. "Took you a while."
"Yeah, there''s a reason for that," Tyler replied. "Anyway, I''m back with enough equipment to craft a weapon." Tyler said.
"Well, okay then, go ahead," Hector said.
"Okay then, craft copper daggers," Tyler instructed the system.
The system responded, Crafting... A moment later, another message appeared: Crafting successful. Tyler checked his inventory; a copper dagger appeared, and he had nine copper ores remaining. This gave him an idea. It only took nine ores to craft one dagger.
He commanded, "Craft copper dagger."
Again, the system replied, Crafting... followed by: Crafting successful. Another inventory slot filled with the copper dagger icon.
Copper daggers materialized in Tyler''s hands. "See? Like I told you, I can craft weapons," he said.
Hector approached, examining the daggers. "Yeah, you truly can craft weapons. I checked out that copper dagger you gave me earlier, before you went to the mineral shop. I should probably give it back. For copper weapons, they''re surprisingly hard and well-crafted. It''s better than any weapon I''ve ever made from copper. To tell you the truth, I''ve never crafted weapons from copper before. I only make copper armor. It seemed like a stupid idea, but this..."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
"This skill of yours is honestly... I don''t know how to put it," Hector mused, "It''s like the easy way to crafting. It feels off, but it''s still very good. So, do you want to sell these right now?"
Tyler handed the two daggers that had materialized in his hands to Hector. "Yeah, maybe you can put them on display where you sell the other items," he said. "Oh, okay, I''ll do that."
"So, you crafted two. Do you only want me to hang these?" Hector asked, holding the daggers.
"Yeah, no," Tyler clarified. "I''ll use the other two I made for hunting. These are the ones you can sell."
"This skill of yours is honestly... I don''t know how to put it," Hector mused, "It''s like the easy way to crafting. It feels off, but it''s still very good. So, do you want to sell these right now?"
Tyler handed the two daggers that had materialized in his hands to Hector. "Yeah, maybe you can put them on display where you sell the other items," he said. "Oh, okay, I''ll do that."
"So, you crafted two. Do you only want me to hang these?" Hector asked, holding the daggers.
"Yeah, no," Tyler clarified. "I''ll use the other two I made for hunting. These are the ones you can sell."
"So, how much do you want to sell them for?" Hector asked.
"How much would you prefer to sell them for?" Tyler countered. "I''m not really sure how this blacksmith business works, so how much do you think they''d cost?"
Hector examined the daggers again. "These things will probably fetch about five silver each."
"What? Five silver?" Tyler exclaimed.
"Yes, five silver ," Hector confirmed.
"Well, that''s not much profit," Tyler muttered. "I spent one gold to make those two."
"No, you are getting it wrong, I am saying that you can sell each dagger 5 copper, I mean 5 silver apiece. If someone buys two, for dual wielding, you''ll have a gold coin," Hector said. Tyler replied, "Oh, yeah, that works, but do these daggers really cost that much?" Hector said, "No."
"These daggers don''t really cost much. Unless you''re a blacksmith like me, you might not realize it, but they aren''t that tough. They look tough; they feel tough¡ªhell, they look really good, shiny and gleaming¡ªbut they don''t have much durability, do they?" Hector asked Tyler.
Tyler remembered throwing a dagger against a monster and it shattering. "Yes," he admitted, "they don''t have much durability, but they''re still pretty hard. We''ll just have to wait and see."
"Don''t worry about it," Hector said. "I''m getting something out of this, aren''t I?"
"Yeah," Tyler agreed. "Well, anyways, thank you again. I''ll be going," Tyler said as he left.
Hector looked at the copper daggers. "This kid''s really good at using that skill," he muttered. "He doesn''t even have to work that hard for it. This is so unfair."
As Tyler walked, he noticed the sun setting and headed back home.
"Man, time probably passed faster than I thought because we did so much today," Tyler mused. "Actually, something''s been bothering me about this world. The hours feel longer¡ªnot drastically, but it feels like 26 or 27 hours in a day. I haven''t seen a clock, so I can''t be sure, but it always feels so long."
He arrived at his house, opened the door, and found the sitting room empty. He heard voices from another room¡ªprobably Grone and his wife.
He saw food on the table and sat down to eat. The first spoonful emptied his stomach; he was ravenously hungry. He ate quickly, pausing a few times to pat his chest as he nearly choked. He finished the meal quickly, stood up, and said, "I really need a bath." He glanced at his trousers beneath his robe and noticed a bit of blood, likely from the crimson wolf bite. The reddish-brown color of his trousers, however, made it hard to tell for certain.
He went through a nearby door into a bathing room, drew water from barrels¡ªit was quite cold, but he didn''t mind¡ªand poured it into the tub. After bathing, he realized he only had two pairs of trousers, the other being in his room. He retrieved the other pair, changed, and then went outside.
Tyler thought, "It''s crazy how they have flushing toilets here, but I''ve never seen a sink. And the tub doesn''t have running water, yet they have a small fountain somewhere. What powers the flushing toilet? Is it magic? I can''t see any pipes. I thought they were built into the walls, but the walls are wood inside and brick outside. I don''t understand their construction methods, so I won''t worry about it."
Tyler returned inside and knocked on the door to Grone and his wife''s room. A baby''s cry came from within, and Grone opened the door. "Oh, you''re back," Grone said. "Did it take that long to talk to Hector, or were you working again?"
"No, I ran into a bit of trouble," Tyler replied. "I was taken to the dungeon."
"What? You were taken to the dungeon? What happened?" Grone asked, clearly surprised.
"Well, you remember that A-Rank who robbed me? Turns out it wasn''t an E-Rank. It was actually a level 30 A-Rank. I saw him again today trying to rob a woman, so I had to act, and we ended up in a fight."
"A guard came and saw us fighting, and he took us to the dungeon," Tyler continued. "We had to pay a fine for fighting in the streets."
"Right, so you had to pay a fine to get out," Grone said.
"Yes," Tyler confirmed. "So what happened to that hunter?" Grone asked.
"I left him there," Tyler said. "Looks like he''ll be there for a while. It''ll probably be a short time, but I don''t think he''s actually a hunter. He wasn''t the rank we thought he was; he was pretending to be an A-rank hunter."
"That''s very illegal," Grone stated. "Pretending to be an A-rank hunter carries a severe punishment. You could be imprisoned for many years, and if you impersonate a hunter and use their name, you could even face the death penalty."
Tyler was surprised. A death penalty for impersonation? He hadn''t realized the punishment was that severe.
"Did you win?" Grone then asked.
"What do you mean?" Tyler questioned.
"Against the high-ranking hunter," Grone clarified, "did you win?"
"Y- Yeah," Tyler said, "I won."
"Haha," Grone chuckled. "He pretty much deserved it. I mean, he really beat you up that time." Tyler felt embarrassed and scratched his head.
"Yeah, um, there''s something I wanted to talk to you about," Tyler said. "That''s why I knocked."
"Oh? What is it?" Grone asked.
"I want to go hunting again, right now," Tyler said.
Grone was surprised. "What do you mean? We just hunted a lot today, and you made some money. Aren''t you tired?"
"Well, not really," Tyler explained. "Every time I level up, my exhaustion decreases, and I leveled up today, so I''m full of energy. Plus, I want to gather more materials for crafting."
"Crafting?" Grone questioned.
"Oh, I forgot to show you something," Tyler said, taking a few steps back. "Watch this." He mentally equipped the Gloom Armor, and it shimmered into existence, a high-quality blue robe appearing on him. Grone was surprised by the sudden change.
Grone saw the concentric circles on the sleeves of Tyler''s Gloom Armor. "This is pretty amazing, right?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Grone replied. "When did you craft this? When did you do that?"
"I actually made it today," Tyler said. "It''s made from Gloom fangs."
"Gloom fangs? The ones we killed earlier?" Grone asked.
"Yes," Tyler said.
"It turns out I can make armor from the hides of creatures and things like that," Tyler explained.
"Oh," Grone said, "Is that how you made the other armor I found you wearing in the forest that time?"
"Yeah," Tyler replied, "That one was made using crimson wolf hide and a hex horn."
"Oh," Grone said. "If you want to go hunting, then I''m coming with you."
"Oh, no, it''s okay," Tyler said. "I''ll just take E-rank quests¡ªthey''re the only ones I can take right now. You don''t have to come if you''re exhausted, and I can see you are. You should probably rest."
"You shouldn''t go alone, though," Grone said. "You still have a lot to learn."
"It''s just E-rank quests," Tyler replied. "I''m probably okay taking them alone; they''re not that dangerous."
"It''s not about the E-rank quests," Grone countered. "You know you can still run into D-rank or even C-rank monsters on those quests."
Tyler grinned. "And I was able to defeat C-rank monsters on my own, wasn''t I? Anyways, you should probably rest. This is why I wanted to become a hunter¡ªto be independent and to be able to help you, to repay you."
Grone looked at him. "Well, you should really be careful," he said. "Even though you''ve learned a lot, you still have much to learn. You need to learn where and when monsters are likely to appear, what they eat, things like that. That''s how E-rank hunters survive¡ªthey know the areas where certain monsters gather. I want to teach you that. Why don''t you sit down at the table so I can tell you all about it?"
Tyler said, "Oh, alright," and went to sit at the table. Grone followed and sat down beside him.
"Okay, so this is how it is," Grone began, explaining the local wildlife, describing each creature, their habits, and the times they were most active. He spoke of the Shadow Claw Rabbit, and Tyler recounted a near-fatal encounter with them. Grone gave examples, such as the Hexhorns'' preference for areas abundant with certain flowers. He continued describing various monsters until Tyler seemed to grasp the concepts.
"You got it, right?" Grone asked.
"Yeah," Tyler replied.
"Good," Grone said. "You really need to remember this. Don''t forget, alright?"
Tyler, getting to his feet, went to the door. He looked back at Grone one last time. "I''m leaving now. I''m going hunting. And don''t worry, I''ll be right back before you know it."
Grone smiled. "Well, alright. Don''t die out there. You know what happened last time."
Tyler chuckled. "Don''t worry. I''ll be fine." He exited the house. Looking at the setting sun, he muttered, "You know what, I don''t think I''m returning today either. Well, anyways, time to go now."
Tyler headed to the marketplace. He spotted the familiar fruit vendor, the old woman he''d bought from before. "Hmm, I want to buy ten apples," he said.
"Good evening, you want to buy ten apples?" the woman asked, confirming.
"Yes," Tyler replied.
The old woman carefully placed ten apples into a sack and handed it to him. Tyler gave her a gold coin, received his change, and started to leave. The old woman called out, " Please come again."
The sack of apples vanished into Tyler''s inventory. He continued walking, spotted the waiting wagons, and climbed aboard one. A man he didn''t recognize greeted him. "Oh, good evening young man. Where are you headed?"
"To the crossroads base, please," Tyler replied.
The wagon owner looked at Tyler''s E-rank hunter''s necklace. "Okay," he said.
The wagon owner climbed aboard, and the carriage started moving, the horses pulling them out of town and down the main road. The wagon reached the crossroads, stopping just behind the large tent. Tyler paid the driver one silver coin, received his change of two copper coins, and dismounted.
Tyler circled the tent before entering. Inside, he saw hunters submitting quests, collecting rewards, and carrying materials. He approached the counter, expecting to see Serena, but a young man with short, reddish-brown hair¡ªalmost ginger¡ªstood there instead. He appeared to be around Tyler''s age.
Tyler approached the man and said, "Good evening."
"Oh, good evening. How may I help you?" the man replied.
"Is Serena not around?" Tyler asked.
"Oh, Serena''s not around tonight. This is my shift; we switch off. She takes the day, I take the night," the man explained. He glanced at Tyler''s necklace, noticing his E-rank status. "Oh, are you looking for any E-rank quests?"
"Yes," Tyler said.
"You''re pretty lucky," the man said. "You just made it in time for the last one."
"Really? Oh, okay. Which one is it?" Tyler asked eagerly.
The man turned, took a flyer from a quest board behind him, and placed it on the counter. The flyer was detailed, with a clear drawing of a bush. "This E-rank quest requires you to bring back some Brunish tree leaves," the man explained.
"Brunish?" Tyler questioned.
"Yes, Brunish leaves," the man confirmed. "They''re used to make tea; people really like them. This is a standard E-rank quest."
"These bushes are mostly found just before you cross the river," the man explained. Tyler looked at the flyer, a little disappointed. He noticed the reward in the corner: nine copper coins. The man looked confused by Tyler''s reaction; most E-rank hunters would be happy with such a quest. E-rank quests were rare because they were often completed quickly.
"Alright," Tyler said, "Where do I need to sign?"
"Oh, sign here," the man instructed. Tyler picked up the pencil, intending to sign, but realized he didn''t know the local script. As soon as the pencil touched the paper, however, his hand moved on its own, writing his name flawlessly in the alien language¡ªan action he hadn''t consciously performed.
The man simply watched, then said, "Alright," taking the flyer and placing it under the counter. "Good luck on your quest," he added, standing up.
Tyler, still slightly stunned by the automatic writing, turned and left the tent, heading straight for the forest. He noticed the darkening sky and a grin spread across his face. He could easily obtain the Brunish leaves, but that wasn''t his primary goal. He wanted Shadow Claw Rabbit. Every time he crafted items from their hides, he also obtained skills and he wanted more. Then, the system notification appeared before him, displaying:
Rank-E
Quest Created: Return with a Brunish leaves
Reward: Basic Armor Recipe
Reward: basic Armor recipe
Reward: weak deafease potion recipe
Accept Quest (Yes\No)
Tyler read the system notification, a look of amazement on his face as he walked slowly. Another notification popped up: Achievement Unlocked: My Second Quest. Stamina +5. Tyler was pleased. He started walking towards the forest, feeling his heart quicken as he left the crossroads behind.
"Accept quest," Tyler muttered, continuing his walk. The system replied: Quest Accepted. He pushed through some bushes and deeper into the woods. Sounds reached his ears, and then, a slime appeared before him. The system displayed above its head: Level 16 Slime. Daggers materialized in Tyler''s hands, and a small smile touched his lips as he adopted a fighting stance. Then, another slime emerged from the undergrowth.
The second slime was also a Level 16 Slime. Before Tyler could react, the Level 16 slime leaped onto the first, and the two quickly merged, forming a single Level 32 Slime. Tyler sighed, but his heart pounded once more. " Again? "
Chapter 35: Death From The Shadows
The night air hung heavy and cold, a damp chill seeping into Tyler¡¯s gloom armor as it shifted subtly with each tense breath. A text panel erupted before his eyes: Slime Activated Skill: Bash! The blue slime, a pulsating, obscene parody of life, launched itself at Tyler with the speed of a striking viper. He reacted instinctively, a practiced dance of evasion honed over countless hours of training, sidestepping the viscous wave of blue by a hair''s breadth. The slime slammed into the earth fifteen feet away, the impact a jarring tremor that vibrated through the forest floor.
It offered no respite. With a renewed surge of sickening speed, the monstrous creature lunged again. This time, Tyler met the assault head-on. He channeled every ounce of his strength into a desperate upward slash, the honed copper of his dagger singing a deadly song as it met the slime''s resilient surface. A sickening thwack echoed through the silent woods, but the blow, though delivered with brutal force, barely registered on the monstrous being. The recoil, however, was enough. The force of the impact ripped the dagger from his grasp, sending it spinning into the darkness.
Tyler stumbled back, his breath ragged. He smoothly transitioned to his remaining dagger, his grip tightening. "Grone told me that they have a lot of durability when fused," Tyler thought grimly. "He did kinda struggle with a level 27 slime that time." The rhythmic pulse of the blue slime filled the chilling silence.
The text appeared before Tyler''s eyes: Slime Activated Skill: Bash! In a blur of motion, the blue slime hurled itself forward, impacting Tyler¡¯s chest with considerable force. The air exploded from his lungs as he skidded backwards across the forest floor, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he braced himself against the searing pain. The slime, in a grotesque display of triumph, began a bizarre, rhythmic bouncing, emitting a series of high-pitched kyuu sounds, a chilling symphony of its victory.
Tyler¡¯s gaze dropped to the fallen dagger, its stats momentarily imprinted on his vision: Attack Power: 44 . A sudden thought pierced the pain: Wait, what¡¯s my attack power? The system responded instantly, the text panel flashing before his eyes: User ATK: 77. A wave of surprise washed over him. Could his bare fists inflict more damage than his daggers? The question was answered swiftly as both daggers ¨C the one clutched in his hand and the one lying discarded on the ground ¨C vanished, reclaimed by the system.
The slime, in its victory dance, seemed larger than the one Grone had faced¡ªeasily three feet tall and four feet wide. Tyler glanced at his HP display 79. The slime''s attack had on. The slime''s attack had only depleted 21 points.
Before he could fully assess the situation, the slime launched itself again. This time, Tyler met the attack head-on, his fist connecting with the gelatinous mass with a sickening twamb. The slime recoiled, its impact against the forest floor a dull thud. Instantly, Tyler activated his Rush skill, a blur of motion propelling him forward as the slime initiated another Bash. He roared, a primal sound tearing from his throat, as his fist slammed into the slime''s quivering surface. The creature recoiled violently, landing on ground with a violent thub. Without hesitation, Tyler planted his foot, digging his heel into the earth for leverage, and launched himself in pursuit, a predator closing in on its prey.
He unleashed a flurry of punches, a rapid-fire barrage that sent the slime reeling backward. Each blow connected with a sickening thwack, pushing the creature further and further until it was backed against a large tree, its escape route cut off. A loud kyuu shrieked from the slime, a sound of defiance or perhaps pain. "Shut up!!" Tyler roared, his voice raw with exertion, as he gathered his strength for one final, devastating blow.
His fist shot forward, a blur of motion, connecting with the slime with the full force of his rage. The tree behind the slime trembled violently, the impact creating a small gust of wind that ruffled the leaves. The slime, unable to withstand the force, began to disintegrate, dissolving into a blue dust that vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind only a tennis ball-sized, pulsating core.
Tyler breathed heavily, the exertion leaving him breathless, as the core vanished into his inventory. The sudden rustling of bushes shattered the silence. Eight slimes, a pack of smaller, yet still menacing creatures, emerged from the undergrowth, their gelatinous forms shimmering in the dim light. Surprise, cold and sharp, pierced through Tyler''s exhaustion.
"Looks like that cry was a call for help," Tyler muttered, the realization dawning on him. His daggers reappeared in his hands, their weight familiar and reassuring. A quick assessment revealed that all but one were above level 10. Without hesitation, he hurled his dagger at the level 6 slime. It pierced the creature''s gelatinous form, instantly killing it. The dagger materialized back in his hand. "One less to worry about," he said, a grin spreading across his face as he adopted a battle-ready stance.
Meanwhile, at the Crossroads base, Rebecca stood at the counter, about to accept a new D-rank quest. The young man behind the counter presented her with a selection of fliers, each detailing a different mission. "This one," she declared, her finger tapping decisively on one of the fliers.
"Are you sure? This is one of the toughest D-rank quests we''ve got," the young man said, a hint of concern in his voice.
"What? You don''t think I can pull it off? I''m a level 46 D-rank hunter¡ªthat''s practically D-plus!" Rebecca retorted, her voice sharp. "Oh, I''m sorry, I¡ª" The young man stammered, but Rebecca cut him off. "Just give me the stupid pencil and let me sign it," she snapped, her irritation evident.
"Right!" he said quickly, retrieving a pencil from his pocket and offering it to her. "You''ll need to sign¡ª" he began, but Rebecca interrupted again. "Yeah, yeah, I know where to sign," she said, her signature a bold flourish across the flier.
The young man took the flier back. "Good luck out there, miss," he offered.
"Don''t need it," Rebecca replied, already turning to leave.
The other man behind the counter watched her go, a sigh escaping his lips. "Hunters man i tell ya," he muttered, shaking his head. "She probably thinks she''s better than everyone here."
The young man sighed and said, "Yeah, probably."
Rebecca neared the forest and sighed. "I should have been nicer to him," she muttered. "He didn''t mean it that way. It''s all because of my stupid uncle¡ªthat bastard stole my money while I wasn''t looking and left. I almost died while taking that money. Those hunters could have killed me back then." She said, "Well, it''s time to hunt for shadow claws."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Level up! The system notified Tyler as he finished killing the slimes. Tyler looked at his inventory and saw that he now had he eight slime cores. It was a round icon that read Slime core x8 when he focused on it. He then looked at his status screen that displayed:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 31
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 102/102 MP: 95/95
STR: 89 AGI: 77
DEF: 141 STM: 78
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Another notification appeared: Achievement Unlocked: User has killed over 30 monsters in total: +7 Stamina.
Tyler smiled and checked his stats again.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 31
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 102/102 MP: 95/95
STR: 89 AGI: 77
DEF: 141 STM: 85
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skill: Rush-MC 17
"Time to look for Shadow claws," Tyler said, moving deeper into the forest.
As he walked through the forest, he spotted a small bush with leaves remarkably similar to those depicted on the quest flier. System text appeared above the bush: Brunish Bush. Tyler smiled and approached it. "So this is what they really look like," he murmured. He instinctively reached out to pluck some leaves, intending to add them to his inventory. Instead, the entire bush vanished, leaving only a small hole in the ground where it had stood. Tyler stared, surprised.
He checked his inventory and found a bush-shaped icon. "Woah, I thought it would only take the leaves, not the whole bush," he said, shaking his head. "Now that I think about it, the system displayed its name¡ªit doesn''t do that with every plant. Is this an ingredient I can use in alchemy?" he wondered.
He heard the sound of running water, closer now; he was nearing the river.
Reaching the riverbank, Tyler paused. The sound of the running water was strangely soothing, a calming counterpoint to the tension of the hunt. It reminded him of the peaceful sound of rain. He began to follow the river, searching for the narrow path he and Grone had traversed before. As he walked, a system notification appeared above a peculiar plant growing at the water''s edge, its roots partially submerged. The text read: String Drain Plant.
Tyler approached cautiously, crouching down to examine the strange flora. "This is by far the weirdest plant I''ve ever seen," he thought, studying its thin, black branches that resembled tangled strings. He couldn''t discern any roots.
He looked closer at the strings; they seemed to be moving. "It''s probably because of the water," he mused. He attempted to add the plant to his inventory mentally, but nothing happened. "Huh, why isn''t it working?" he whispered, puzzled. He reached out and touched one of the strings. It felt surprisingly soft yet strong, and strangely warm to the touch. Suddenly, the string wrapped tightly around his fingers and palm.
"What the¡ª" he exclaimed, trying to pull his hand away. The strings held firm, their grip surprisingly strong. He tugged harder, attempting to rip the strings free, but more of the plant''s tendrils attached themselves to his hand. Then, a system notification flashed before his eyes: String Drain Plant Activated Skill: Life Drain. A network of dark veins began to spread across his hand.
A searing pain shot through his hand, quickly spreading to his entire body, a combination of electric shock and agonizing drain. His whole body ached, his HP plummeting. He groaned, pulling frantically at the plant''s tenacious grip, but the strings held fast. His HP display flickered before his eyes: 81/102, then 79/102. The numbers dropped rapidly. His nose began to bleed.
"Come on!" he yelled, straining against the plant''s hold. "I''m not going to die here! I can''t die here!" he groaned, his HP now at 59. His daggers materialized in his hands, and he frantically tried to slice through the plant''s surprisingly tough strings, but the blades seemed useless against them.
"Come on, this is how it ends?" he muttered, his nose bleeding more freely, staining his gloom armor crimson.
He pulled with all his might, feeling the plant''s roots begin to tear from the earth. "Pull... pull..." he groaned, muscles straining with the effort. With a sharp crack, the roots snapped, and he wrenched the plant free. The strings instantly weakened, their grip loosening. He threw the plant aside, collapsing onto his backside, gasping for breath.
"I thought I was a goner," he thought, breathing heavily. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his gaze dropping to his HP display: 34. He sighed. "All the way from one hundred and two to just thirty-four in seconds. What is this plant?" he wondered, staring at the discarded vegetation. System text appeared beside it: Extract. "Wait... was it a monster all along?" Tyler whispered.
He checked the plant''s status with the system; it only displayed the name, String Drain Plant, with no level indicated. "So it''s just a plant... that almost killed me," he muttered. Regardless, he decided to extract its materials. The strings vanished into his inventory, leaving only the roots behind. In his inventory, a string-shaped icon, an ''S'', appeared, with the text Drain String underneath. He noticed that focusing on any item in his inventory zoomed the icon and displayed its name below. This time, however, no number appeared beside the Drain String icon.
He turned his attention back to the river, deciding to follow its course upstream.
He spotted a quieter section of the river where stepping stones appeared amongst the rocks¡ªthe path he and Grone had taken. He wondered if someone had deliberately placed those stones to create a crossing. Reaching the other side, he immediately saw a Level 17 Gloomfang approaching.
His daggers materialized, and he assumed a fighting stance. The Gloomfang eyed him for a moment before turning tail and fleeing. Rush Skill Activated, the system displayed as Tyler activated his skill, blurring into motion as he pursued the wolf. The trees whizzed past in a green and brown blur. He caught up to the fleeing creature in seconds, his dagger arcing down in a swift, brutal strike that connected with the Gloomfang''s back. With a howl of pain, the wolf stumbled. Tyler swiftly withdrew his dagger, dragging the blade through the creature''s flesh before delivering a final, fatal blow to its neck.
He immediately stood and extracted the Gloomfang hide, leaving the flesh and bones behind. He kept walking straight, then stopped and thought. "That time when I was alone in the forest... which direction did I come from again? Oh, yeah, right." He said, hitting his fist against his palm.
"I need to follow the river upstream again from this side, all the way back. If I pass that Venom Bloom tree from that time, I''ll be sure I''m going the right way." He thought as he turned and started following the river upstream. He walked for a while until he saw the Venom Bloom tree again. He smiled as he looked up at the tree, thinking of the time he''d grabbed one and it caused skin irritation. He then saw that there were fewer Venom blooms on the tree than the last time he''d seen it.
He mentally collected the Venom Blooms; they vanished instantly, appearing as a stack of thirteen in his inventory.
Continuing his journey, he veered deeper into the forest''s embrace. A dark shape moved in his peripheral vision, resolving itself into a distinct form as it drew nearer. It was a Hexhorn, its level registering as 10. With practiced ease, he launched both daggers, a twin arc of copper slicing through the air. The first found its mark with a sickening thunk, embedding itself deep within the creature''s eye socket. The second followed swiftly, piercing the Hexhorn''s nose. The creature shuddered violently, its legs buckling beneath it before it collapsed with a heavy thud onto the forest floor, lifeless.
Approaching the fallen beast, he efficiently harvested its hide. Then, a wave of nausea washed over him. A cloying stench, thick and acrid, assaulted his nostrils¡ªthe unmistakable odor of advanced decomposition. He shielded his nose, the familiar stench triggering a wave of revulsion as he moved towards its source.
What he saw made his eyes widen. A body lay sprawled on the forest floor, bathed in the pale moonlight. One arm was gone, severed cleanly at the shoulder; a leg was similarly absent, leaving a ragged stump where it once had been. The fingers of his remaining hand were gone, the ends of his wrist bone stark and white against the dark earth, as if some predator had meticulously stripped the flesh from the bone. His face was pressed into the ground, obscuring his features, but the back of his head, the dark, damp curls of his hair matted with something dark and viscous, spoke of a violent end. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm Tyler; he fought it back with grim determination, his stomach clenching. He risked one last glance, the system message flashing before his eyes: Tyson Green LVL 47. The stark reality of a fellow hunter, a D-Rank hunter, lying dead before him, struck him with brutal force. Something had hunted and killed him here. The system prompt, Extract, hung in the air, a stark reminder of the grim reality of his situation. The gleam of the dead man''s armor, catching the moonlight, was almost mocking in its pristine contrast to the brutal scene before him.
Right then, something unexpected showed up. In the shadows, numerous red eyes glowed in the undergrowth. The system identified them as seven Shadow Claws, all appearing to be above level 20. Then, a new system message appeared, the letters stark red:
WARNING: FIELD BOSS MONSTER HAS APPEARED
Suddenly, a small black rabbit, no bigger than a toddler, hopped from the bushes, its red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. It stood on its hind legs, its posture unnervingly upright. Tyler''s heart pounded in his chest. A red level indicator appeared above its head:
SHADOW WALKER: LVL 67
SHADOW WALKER ACTIVATED SKILL: SHADOW DEN
The rabbit smiled, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth, stained crimson.
Chapter 36: Shadow walker
His gaze was serious, his words measured. "If you encounter Shadow Claws above level 30, run. You''re not ready for them yet."
Tyler frowned. "But what if it catches me?"
"Listen for their shriek," Grone instructed, his voice low. "They let out a high-pitched shriek just before they strike. They''re fast, yes, incredibly fast, but they lack the raw power to match their speed. They might seem weak at first glance, but never underestimate them."
***
Tyler¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the forest. The Shadow Walker¡¯s gaze, twin points of malevolent crimson, locked onto his. Its menacing smile, a rictus of bloody teeth, was unnerving. His hands trembled as he adopted a fighting stance, the familiar weight of his copper daggers grounding him. A swirling, smoke-like aura emanated from the rabbit-like creature, a miasma of darkness that seemed to writhe and pulse with malevolent energy. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the aura dissipated, and the Shadow Walker vanished, dissolving into the earth like smoke fading into the night, leaving only the lingering scent of ozone and decay.
Instinct screamed at Tyler, and he took a stumbling step back, his eyes darting around, searching for the vanished Shadow Walker. "Where is it?" he thought, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine. Then, a high-pitched shriek tore through the night, the sound impossibly close, directly in front of him. A Level 28 Shadow Claw materialized, its form blurring at the edges. He swung his dagger, the blade connecting with the creature''s neck, but the cut seemed to have little effect. The Shadow Claw passed through the blow, its jaws snapping shut, tearing a chunk from his ear before it vanished back into the shadows behind him. The blue system panel flashed: Shadow Walker activated skill: Shadow Strike.
Panic seized him. He couldn''t see where the Shadow Walker would strike . He reacted instantly, activating his Rush skill. But before he could even process the activation, a brutal blow slammed into his back, the impact sending a searing pain through him. He heard a sickening crack, the sound of bone breaking, and the force of the strike sent him sprawling forward, skidding across the forest floor.
He spun around, his dagger arcing in a desperate slash, but found nothing. His HP display flashed into view: 8. He stared, shocked. Twenty-six points of HP gone in a single blow. "I have to kill something," he thought, the words a desperate mantra. A shriek pierced the air from his left. He reacted instantly, swinging his dagger downwards in a powerful strike. His blade found its mark, piercing the head of a Level 27 Shadow Claw. He slammed the creature to the ground, but there was no time to celebrate. Something large brushed against his abdomen, a glancing blow that tore his clothing and sent a jolt of pain through him.
He looked up to see the Shadow Walker standing there, its red eyes burning into him. "I dodged it?" he thought, a flicker of grim satisfaction amidst the pain. But his relief was short-lived. The Shadow Walker launched itself at him with a spinning kick. Tyler reacted instinctively, crossing his daggers to block the blow. The impact sent a shockwave up his arms, but the Shadow Walker was relentless. A swift, sweeping kick followed, sending Tyler sprawling to the ground.
He rolled, using his hands to propel himself upward as the Shadow Walker''s teeth missed his face by a hair''s breadth. Landing on his feet, he reacted instantly, throwing both daggers. The Shadow Walker met the first with a spinning kick, deflecting it harmlessly. The second dagger, aimed for the creature''s head, was met with an incredible display of agility; the Shadow Walker used its ear to deflect the blade, sending it flying into the shadows.
A shriek announced the arrival of a Shadow Claw, launching itself from behind the Shadow Walker. Tyler reacted with brutal efficiency, rotating his body and delivering a powerful kick that sent the creature sprawling, its head impacting the ground with a sickening crunch. Level Up, the system panel announced. But any sense of relief was short-lived. Shadow Walker activated skill: Shadow Strike, the system warned, before the Shadow Walker itself launched a devastating attack. It slammed into Tyler''s stomach, the force of the blow sending him reeling backward. Then, the Shadow Walker''s jaws clamped down, its teeth sinking into his flesh.
He groaned, a sound ripped from his lungs by the searing pain, and instinctively reached for the Shadow Walker, but his grasp closed on nothing. The creature had vanished. He tasted blood, the coppery tang of it filling his mouth as he vomited. The system message appeared: Shadow Walker activated Shadow Step.
Then, a blur of motion¡ªbut not just any blur. This was a calculated blur, a terrifying ballet of death. A shadow, impossibly fast, appeared near him, then, instead of a direct attack, it seemed to push off the nearest tree trunk, its movement a rapid series of precisely timed hops. A whoosh of displaced air accompanied each impossible leap. It wasn''t merely bouncing; it was using the trees as springboards, launching itself from one trunk to the next in a dizzying display of speed and agility. One moment it was near Tyler''s head, the next it was impacting a tree trunk with a shar twack, then another, and another, each impact accompanied by the rush of air as it propelled itself forward. The speed was so intense, it was as if the Shadow Walker was everywhere and nowhere at once. Tyler''s vision struggled to keep up, registering only a dizzying blur of motion and the constant, unsettling whoosh of displaced air. The effect was disorienting, terrifying; it was as if the very fabric of reality was bending to the creature''s will.
A searing pain lanced through his leg, then his cheek, his shoulder, his back¡ªeach blow precise, each impact leaving a deep, burning wound. He couldn''t see the attacks coming; the Shadow Walker was a phantom, a wraith of darkness, its movements too fast for his eyes to follow. His HP plummeted to 68, the deep wounds burning with agony. He activated his Rush skill, desperate for a chance to escape the relentless, impossible assault.
The Shadow Walker, having completed its dizzying display of speed, launched itself from the tree trunk, its target: Tyler''s eyes. Tyler, having activated his Rush skill, could now perceive the creature''s movements with greater clarity. Even so, the Shadow Walker''s speed was almost impossible to evade. With a desperate lunge backward, Tyler narrowly avoided the attack. The Shadow Walker''s claws raked across his nose, missing his eyes by a hair''s breadth, but the damage was still devastating. A searing pain exploded across his face, and blood streamed down his cheeks, but his vision remained intact. He stumbled back, his hands flying up to his nose, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood. Even with his enhanced perception, the Shadow Walker remained a near-impossible target to track; a fleeting shadow, a whisper of movement in the periphery.
Meanwhile, Rebecca walked through the forest, her bow and quiver of arrows resting comfortably on her back. "It should be around here," she murmured, her gaze sweeping across the dense undergrowth. Then, a sound reached her ears¡ªa faint but distinct series of thuds and scrapes, carried on the wind. Instantly, she activated her Perception skill. The world around her sharpened, the distance collapsing as if the landscape itself was rushing towards her. Her enhanced vision focused on a figure standing amidst the trees. A man, clad in a torn and stained blue robe, stood motionless, his head moving constantly as if searching for something. His posture was tense, his movements frantic. He appeared to be in trouble, or perhaps desperately searching for something. He was clearly distressed.
As the man turned, his gaze sweeping across the trees, Rebecca felt a jolt of recognition. "Wait a minute," she whispered, a frown creasing her brow. "Isn''t that...?" The moonlight glinted off a familiar glint¡ªan E-rank copper necklace, hanging around the man''s neck, bobbing slightly as he turned his head frantically. Surprise flickered across Rebecca''s face. He''d become a hunter. Her surprise deepened into something akin to alarm as a dark shape, almost like a fleeting shadow, brushed past the man''s face. He stumbled backward, a hand flying up to his cheek, a fresh wound already welling with blood.
"Wait a minute," Rebecca muttered, her eyes narrowing. "Is he facing Shadow Claws? What kind of stupid E-rank is he?" She swiftly removed her bow from her back, selecting an arrow with practiced ease. Nocking the arrow, she drew back the string, her gaze fixed on the fleeting shadow that continued to dart around Tyler. A low murmur escaped her lips, "Flaming Arrow," and as she spoke, a ring of fire, like a fiery serpent, coiled around the arrow, its heat shimmering in the air. Then, with a smooth, practiced motion, she loosed the arrow. Before the arrow could reach its target, Tyler''s system panel flashed: Shadow Walker activated skill: Shadow Strike. Almost instantly, a second system message appeared: Rebecca activated skill: Flaming Arrow. Tyler saw the incoming attack and the arrow speeding towards the Shadow Walker, but whether it would hit remained to be seen.
The Shadow Walker, mid-leap, caught sight of the incoming flaming arrow. With a blur of motion, it unleashed a spinning kick, deflecting the projectile. The flaming arrow, its trajectory altered, veered sharply to the left, impacting a nearby tree with a loud crack and a small explosion of fire. The distraction was all the Shadow Walker needed. Before Tyler could react, it struck, a spinning kick connecting with his face. The force of the blow sent him hurtling backward, his body slamming against the trunk of a large tree with a sickening thud.
Rebecca''s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh shit," she breathed, her voice laced with alarm. "It''s the Shadow Walker."
Tyler, groaning, pushed himself away from the tree trunk, his body aching. He looked towards the source of the explosion, then glanced down. His gaze fell upon a decaying corpse lying on the forest floor, its armor partially obscured by leaves and undergrowth. A system prompt appeared next to the body: Extract . The Shadow Walker was still there, a malevolent presence in the darkening forest.Stolen novel; please report.
"It easily deflected my arrow," Rebecca muttered, her voice tight with grim determination. She swiftly plucked three more arrows from her quiver, her movements fluid and practiced. With an almost casual grace, she nocked all three arrows, her fingers dancing across the fletching, preparing for a rapid-fire volley. Her gaze remained locked on the Shadow Walker, assessing its movements, calculating the optimal firing angles.
Meanwhile, Tyler, his body screaming in protest, found his copper daggers materializing in his hands. He lunged, driving a dagger toward the Shadow Walker''s throat. The creature reacted instantly, its hind legs propelling it backward in a powerful hop, narrowly avoiding the blade. He spun, attempting a sweeping strike at its flank. The Shadow Walker twisted, its body a blur of motion, the dagger passing harmlessly through the air where it had been a moment before. He tried again, a vicious upward thrust aimed at its abdomen. With a flick of its wrist, the Shadow Walker sidestepped, its furry armor brushing against Tyler''s arm.
Then, with a sudden, brutal movement, the Shadow Walker seized one of Tyler''s daggers in its teeth, the metal groaning under the pressure before snapping with a sharp crack. Before Tyler could react, a lightning-fast kick shattered his second dagger, sending the pieces flying. He was disarmed, defenseless, facing a creature of terrifying speed and power. The Shadow Walker loomed over him, its crimson eyes burning with malevolent glee, poised to strike. Rebecca, however, held her aim, three arrows nocked and ready, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash her deadly volley.
Rebecca, seeing her opening, unleashed her arrows. Three flaming projectiles, each trailing a fiery wake, shot towards the Shadow Walker in rapid succession. The creature, sensing the imminent threat, turned its gaze towards the incoming volley. Before it could react, however, the Shadow Walker launched itself at Tyler. A spinning kick, swift and brutal, impacted Tyler''s chest, sending him sprawling backward. Using Tyler''s body as a springboard, the Shadow Walker propelled itself forward, its trajectory carrying it directly into the path of the oncoming arrows. With impossible grace, it met the first arrow with a back-kick, sending it careening harmlessly off to the side. The second arrow it intercepted with a sideways strike of its paw, deflecting it with a sharp clack. The third arrow, however, was too close, too fast. The Shadow Walker barely had time to react, its head snapping back as the flaming arrow grazed its skull, leaving a burning trail across its furry armor.
The Shadow Walker landed heavily, the impact jarring. It turned its head to the left, its crimson eyes fixing on Tyler. Before it could react, Tyler, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate need for survival, unleashed a ferocious punch, aiming for its face. "Got you!" he roared, putting every ounce of his remaining strength into the blow. The Shadow Walker was propelled backward, its body reeling from the impact. But just as it seemed certain to crash against a nearby tree trunk, Tyler''s system panel flashed: Shadow Walker activated skill: Shadow Den. The creature dissolved into a wisp of dark smoke, vanishing before it could make contact with the tree.
Silence descended, broken only by Tyler''s ragged breathing. He looked around, his gaze sweeping across the forest, searching for any sign of the creature. Then, remembering the fiery arrows that had grazed the Shadow Walker, he knew it was Rebecca. She was here.
The system message appeared: Shadow walker activated skill: Shadow Strike. Tyler spun around, his senses on high alert, expecting the creature to materialize beside him, ready to strike. But something felt wrong. The air, heavy moments before with the creature''s malevolent presence, felt¡lighter. The oppressive weight of its proximity was gone. He looked towards the direction from which Rebecca had fired her arrows.
Rebecca, having loosed her volley, turned to see if her arrows had found their mark. The area where the Shadow Walker had been was empty. Before she could react, a blur of motion appeared behind her. It was too late. The Shadow Claw connected with a brutal spinning kick to her back, the force of the blow sending her hurtling forward.
Tyler''s gaze fell upon the decaying corpse. "I''m sorry about this," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He yelled, "Extract!", the word a raw cry tearing through the silence. The command initiated the extraction process; the dead man''s armor shimmered, then vanished. Mid-run, the thought formed, sharp and clear: Craft, Bashing Hammer. The system responded instantly: Crafting¡ Then, as abruptly as it began, the crafting was complete. He materialized beside Rebecca, the newly crafted Bashing Hammer heavy but reassuring in his grip. He found her in a fighting stance, a dagger clutched tightly in her hand, her eyes narrowed and focused, a silent battle of wills waged in the stillness before the storm. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, thick and palpable, a prelude to the next clash.
Tyler swung the Bashing Hammer in a wide arc, aiming for the Shadow Claw''s head. But the creature wasn''t there. One moment, it had been looming before him, its crimson eyes burning with malevolent intent; the next, it was gone. Then, a searing pain shot through his side as the Shadow Walker materialized behind him, its claws tearing into his flesh. He stumbled forward, his breath catching in his throat.
"Damn it!" he grunted, clutching at his wound.
Before he could recover, a dark shape appeared beside Rebecca. She reacted instantly, her dagger flashing out in a desperate attempt to intercept the attack. But the Shadow Claw was too quick, too unpredictable. Her blade sliced through empty air as the creature vanished once more.
Rebecca hissed, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Where the hell is it?" she muttered, her voice tight with frustration.
Tyler, nursing his wound, glared at the spot where the creature had last appeared. "It''s using the shadows," he said, his voice strained. "It''s like it''s teleporting."
The Shadow Walker reappeared behind Tyler, its claws extended. He barely managed to twist away, the claws grazing his shoulder. He spun around, his hammer raised, but the creature was gone again, reappearing beside Rebecca, forcing her to leap back to avoid another attack. The dance of death continued, a terrifying game of hide and seek played in the flickering shadows of the forest.
"The shadow walker, a blur of inky darkness, rebounded from the tree trunk with unnatural spring. Taylor reacted instantly. With a powerful thrust, he extended the hammer''s shaft, its weight a sudden, brutal counterforce. The hammer''s head slammed into Rebecca''s abdomen, a jarring impact that sent her sprawling away from the creature''s deadly lunge. The shadow walker, its target snatched away, swiped with razor-sharp claws, narrowly missing Rebecca''s neck. A shallow gash opened across her throat, a thin crimson line against her pale skin. A strangled groan escaped her lips as she collapsed, her body hitting the forest floor with a soft thud.
"¡®Damn it,¡¯ Tyler muttered, the low curse barely audible above the rustling leaves as his hammer swung wide, narrowly missing the shadow walker''s fleeting form. Rebecca, clutching her bleeding neck, watched the creature''s movements with growing alarm. Its speed was unnatural, a blur of motion that defied prediction. Each feint, each darting leap, was perfectly timed to evade Tyler''s attacks. ¡®Shadow claws¡ I should have focused on ranged tactics,¡¯ she thought grimly.
"A blue system panel shimmered into existence before Tyler, stark against the dim forest light: *18 HP*. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat accompanying the unsettling whisper of the shadow walker flitting through the trees. ¡®I have to finish this,¡¯ he muttered, his voice tight with grim determination, ¡®or else I¡¯m going to die.¡¯
Rebecca, noticing her fallen position near her quiver, scrambled to her feet. Her fingers closed around the familiar weight of her bow and arrows. Her gaze darted around, searching for an opening, a fleeting glimpse of the shadow walker''s movements that might offer a clear shot."
"Tyler''s eyes tracked the shadow walker, the seemingly random leaps resolving into a discernible pattern. ''These aren''t random at all,'' he murmured, a grim smile playing on his lips. ''I think I''ve got it.'' With a controlled swing, his hammer whistled through the air, missing the creature by a hair. The shadow walker''s eyes widened in mid-air as it reacted to the near miss, leaping to another tree. ''I knew it,'' Tyler said, a surge of confidence coursing through him. ''I think I can beat it."
Rebecca watched Tyler, surprise evident on her face. He seemed to be anticipating the shadow walker''s movements, a skill she lacked despite her ability to see faraway objects. Her skill didn''t slow down fast movements; it only extended her vision. Confused, she thought, "How is he doing that? That''s impossible. Isn''t he just E-rank?"
Tyler infused mana into his hammer and armor. A system notification appeared: Skill Fusion Possible. Tyler''s eyes widened. "What?" he breathed. The system prompt followed: Fuse Skills? Tyler stared, disbelief dawning on his face. "Wait... I can fuse skills?"
The shadow walker seized the moment, launching a Shadow Strike. Tyler reacted instinctively, narrowly dodging the attack, but not before a claw raked across his cheek, drawing blood.
He glanced at the system panel, his breath catching in his throat. "Yes," he whispered, "fuse skills.
The system responded: Skill Fusion Complete: Kinetic Overload.
Tyler said, "Kinetic Overload?"
The system replied: Kinetic Overload combines Bash and Rush. Increased attack speed, strength, and damage 150 Atk. Shockwave on impact deals 20-30 additional damage. Active for 5 seconds. Consumes 22 mana. Bash and Rush remain usable separately.
Tyler glanced at his system panel. Frost Arrow Activated appeared. Three arrows, encased in ice, zipped past him, embedding themselves in nearby trees. Frost spread rapidly across the bark, quickly encasing the trees in a thick layer of ice. Surprise gave way to understanding as he watched Rebecca. She stood, poised and alert.
He looked up, his gaze snagging on a branch high above. Perched there, a silhouette against the fading light, the shadow walker regarded him with chilling patience. The creature was assessing him, gauging its next move. Tyler''s grip tightened on his hammer, the cold metal a stark contrast to the burning intensity in his eyes. A faint blue luminescence emanated from his eyes, echoing the glow of the concentric circles on his Gloom Armor sleeves. The air crackled with anticipation as the system messages flashed before him: Shadow Walker has activated Shadow Step. Shadow Strike.
The shadow walker launched itself from the branch, a blur of shadow and claw, its attack a deadly combination of speed and surprise. Adrenaline surged through Tyler. With a guttural roar, he activated Kinetic Overload. The world seemed to sharpen, colors intensifying as his muscles coiled, ready to unleash a devastating blow. He launched himself upwards, a human projectile defying gravity, soaring to meet the oncoming creature in a mid-air collision.
Their blows met with earth-shattering force. His hammer slammed into the shadow walker, a blinding flash erupting as a shockwave radiated outwards, throwing Rebecca backward. The air itself seemed to crackle and explode as a deafening roar filled the forest. The impact sent Tyler hurtling back to earth, the force of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs.
He landed hard, the impact jarring. He checked his HP; it was down to 8. A grim expression replaced the adrenaline-fueled intensity on his face.
Breath ragged, Tyler stared into the distance. The shadow walker was slowly rising, its movements sluggish, its head bleeding profusely. It was clearly weakened, near death. His gaze shifted to Rebecca. To his surprise, she was already standing, her bow drawn, a fiery arrow aimed squarely at the wounded creature. The arrow blazed with an intense, almost supernatural light.
"Oh no," Tyler breathed, "She''s about to kill it."
He launched himself forward, desperate to reach the shadow walker, but Rebecca''s arrow flew first.
"I''m too late," Tyler muttered,
With a guttural yell, Tyler hurled his hammer. It spun through the air, a blur of metal and power, propelled by the full force of his remaining strength. Before the hammer could reach its target, Rebecca''s fiery arrow struck the shadow walker. A massive explosion erupted, sending the creature hurtling into the air. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief, believing her shot had been fatal. But her relief was short-lived. Her eyes widened as she saw Tyler, a silhouette against the sky, launching himself upwards.
Tyler spun through the air, his body a blur of motion. His spinning kick connected with the falling shadow walker, sending the creature crashing to the ground with bone-jarring force. The impact caused the shadow walker to shriek in pain, its body convulsing, but it was not yet dead. Tyler reacted instantly. With a wordless command, his hammer materialized in his hand.
"Wait!" Rebecca shouted, but it was too late.
Tyler smashed the hammer down onto the shadow walker, the blow delivering a final, decisive strike. The creature went still. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged sound of Tyler''s breathing. He stood, feeling the relief wash over him. Then, his system panel appeared before his eyes: Level up Level up Level up Level up Level up Level up Level up.
Chapter 37: Rewards
The hammer, a blur of polished steel in Tyler''s grasp, vanished with a subtle shimmer, swallowed by the unseen inventory. Rebecca, a distant figure against the backdrop of the night, stared. Her gaze was unwavering, intense. The thought solidified in her mind, sharp and cold: "Should I just kill him?" The bow, a taut arc of wood and sinew, rose smoothly, the arrow finding its aim at the vulnerable column of Tyler''s neck.
Tyler, head tilted back, gazed at the moon, a silver disc hanging heavy in the inky sky. A sigh escaped his lips, a soft, almost inaudible sound. Then, a change. A faint, ethereal blue light pulsed across his body, emanating from the wounds that marred his skin. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the gashes began to close, the crimson fading to a healthy pink. The flesh knit itself back together, the damage undone.
Rebecca¡¯s breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she witnessed the impossible. Her bow dipped slightly, the arrow¡¯s trajectory lost. "A regeneration skill?" she whispered, the words barely audible above the night sounds. "This is impossible," she mused, lowering her weapon.
"The way he moved, the way he fought¡ Is he truly E-rank, or is he close to D? It still doesn¡¯t explain it. He was able to move faster." The questions tumbled through her mind, unanswered, leaving her with a growing sense of unease.
The feeling of renewed vitality coursed through Tyler. Instinctively, he summoned the familiar glow of his status window.
"Woah, I leveled up this much?", he thought, a surprised grin spreading across his face. Right then, a system panel appeared, shimmering into existence before him, displaying:
Achievements Unlocked:
First Boss Monster Kill: +15 points for each stat.
Killed a Shadow Walker: +10 AGI.
"What?? That''s insane!" Tyler said out loud, his smile widening. Rebecca, observing from a distance, thought, "Who is saying that to?"
Tyler viewed his status again:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 39
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 133/133 MP: 126/126
STR: 120 AGI: 118
DEF: 165 STM: 116
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skills: Rush-MC 17, Bash-MC 15, Kinetic Overload-MC 22
Achievement Unlocked: 3-digit hunter +5 points for each stat.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
"If fighting boss monsters gives these kinds of rewards, I should just keep hunting bosses," Tyler said cheerfully.
Rebecca looked at him and thought, Oh, so he''s crazy.
"Hey," she said, her voice cutting through Tyler''s thoughts. He turned to face her.
"Who are you talking to? We should go back to base and sell the boss monster''s materials," she stated.
"We?" Tyler questioned.
"Yes," Rebecca replied. "If it weren''t for me, that monster could have killed you."
Tyler''s expression turned serious. His voice was low and intense. "Do you feel that mark on your neck? That''s when I saved you. You could have lost your head."
Rebecca, remembering the near-miss, instinctively touched her neck. A faint green glow emanated from her hand as a system message appeared to Tyler: Rebecca activated skill: Light Heal. He watched as the shallow wound on her neck closed and healed. He thought, "She has a healing skill?"
"Regardless of me saving you or not, I clearly took part in killing this boss monster. Plus, an E-rank like you couldn''t have been given a quest hunting Shadow Claws," Rebecca stated, her tone implying a certain superiority.
Tyler felt a prickle of annoyance at her phrasing. "An E-rank hunter like me. You could have just said ''an E-rank hunter.'' And no, I''m not letting you have any of the materials from this boss monster. Did you think I forgot about what you did that time? The Shadow Walker is mine," he retorted, turning his back to her and facing the fallen Shadow Claw.
She lifted her bow, the arrow aimed squarely at his head. "You do know I can kill you right here and now, right?" she said, her voice dangerously calm.
Tyler turned his head, his eyes glowing with a faint blue light. "Go ahead and try," he challenged, his voice even and unwavering. The hashing hammer materialized in his hand, the polished steel gleaming under the moonlight. Rebecca''s hand trembled slightly, her grip on the bow loosening.
"What''s wrong with me? Why is this happening? Did his level rise that much when he delivered the final blow? Did he rise to D-rank? If so, his speed probably increased a lot too. Should I risk it and take the shot?" Rebecca''s thoughts raced, a whirlwind of uncertainty and doubt. She lowered her bow, the tension slowly leaving her body.
Tyler''s hammer vanished into his inventory. Without a backward glance at Rebecca, he walked past the Shadow Walker''s corpse. "What is he doing? Is he going to let me take it?" she wondered, watching him closely. She couldn''t understand why he wasn''t claiming the materials.
Then, Tyler spoke a single word: "Extract."
Instantly, the Shadow Walker''s hide and claws vanished, leaving behind only a skinned carcass. "That damn skill," Rebecca muttered, gritting her teeth in frustration.
She watched as Tyler walked away, his figure shrinking into the distance. "He''s just an E-rank," she said aloud, the words laced with disbelief and a simmering resentment.
Meanwhile, Tyler sighed in relief, stopping to check his stats again:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: E
LVL: 39
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 138/138 MP: 131/131
STR: 125 AGI: 123
DEF: 170 STM: 121
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy
Equipped Skill: Rush-MC 17, Bash-MC15, Kinetic overload-MC22
"Oh man, I could have gotten shot," he thought. "I don''t think I would have dodged her arrow if she''d fired. She has some cool skills too. That healing... was it what Grone said he couldn''t do that time I was fatally injured?" The encounter left him pondering her abilities.
Tyler looked at his stats and considered heading back to base for some rest. Then, his gaze fell upon his level. "Wait," he murmured, a thought sparking in his mind. "That girl, when I checked her stats, she was D-rank at level 44. And when I first saw Grone, he was about level 48, I think, and a D-rank. He became C-rank when he hit level 50, I think. Does that mean if I reach level 40, I become a D-rank?"
He looked around his surroundings, a new determination hardening his gaze. " I''ve gotta hunter more monsters. ," he declared.
"With how much I''m leveling up, it''s almost as if I don''t have that 25% penalty the system gives me," Tyler mused, continuing his walk. "Maybe it''s because I''m not from this world, because I''m not blessed by their goddess." He paused, letting the thought hang in the air. "I wonder what she was like. Do they even know her, or is it like how it was in my world? People praying to God and believing in superstition, even though most of them have never witnessed it with their own eyes." He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Anyway, I''ve got to stop thinking about these things. I''ve got to focus on finding monsters."
As Tyler walked, he spotted a familiar sight¡ªa large cluster of the flowers he''d seen before, scattered across a surprisingly open area. His surprise deepened as he noticed four Hex Horns, simply resting on the ground as if asleep. A low snoring sound emanated from them, adding to the surreal scene. "Look at all this material," he thought, his eyes widening. "I wonder how many potions I can make with this. My virility i mean, my HP¡ªwould shoot through the roof."
Chapter 38: Suddenly A D Rank
Tyler surveyed the flowers, estimating their number. "There is roughly hundreds of flowers here," he murmured. A text box appeared beside the flowers, displaying the single word: EXTRACT. He hesitated. The last time he''d used "Extract" on the Hex Horns, he''d been pursued by a Hex Horn. "Maybe these peach-colored flowers should be dealt with after I finish dealing with these Hex Horns," he mused, deciding to prioritize dealing with potential threats before harvesting the potentially valuable plants.
"Or," Tyler said, changing his mind and summoning his hammer. The weapon materialized in his hand with a soft shimmer. "I could just extract these flowers since they''ll get ruined if I plan on taking care of the Hex Horns anyway." He muttered the word "extract," and the hundreds of flowers scattered across the forest clearing shimmered blue before vanishing. Instantly, a Hex Horn opened one eye, then the other, quickly rising to its feet with a sharp shriek that roused its companions.
The Hex Horns awoke, their many eyes¡ªfaceted and gleaming with an inner light¡ªsnapping open in the inky blackness of the night. Four pairs of eyes, reflecting the faint starlight filtering through the canopy, fixed on Tyler. He quickly scanned them, his own eyes adjusting to the low light, registering the levels: 42, 34, 26, and 30. A cold appraisal settled over him. "Only the level 42 is a serious threat," he concluded, his focus narrowing on the largest of the creatures.
A guttural roar ripped through the night''s silence, breaking the stillness. The ground trembled beneath the weight of the charging Hex Horns; the sound of their heavy legs, like the thunder of distant drums, filled the air. The scent of earth and something musky, almost reptilian, filled his nostrils. He could feel the vibrations through the ground, a low hum that resonated in his chest.
Tyler met their charge, his own breath catching in his throat. He braced himself, the weight of his hammer a familiar comfort in his grip. He charged.
The ground bucked beneath Tyler''s feet as the Hex Horns thundered towards him. Adrenaline surged, a white-hot rush that sharpened his senses, clearing his mind of everything but the immediate threat. He felt the familiar weight of his hammer, a comforting solidity in the chaos about to erupt. The activation of Bash was instinctive. He launched himself, muscles screaming in protest and delight as he twisted through the air, the world spinning around him in a dizzying blur. The impact of the hammer against the earth was a jarring shock that vibrated through his bones, a brutal counterforce that propelled him skyward. For a heart-stopping moment, he hung suspended, the ground falling away beneath him, the charging Hex Horns looming large in the dim light. Then, the release. The raw power of Kinetic Overload flooded his system, a surge of energy that made his muscles hum and his skin tingle. He was a projectile, a weapon of pure kinetic force, hurtling towards his targets.
With a roar that echoed through the night, Tyler brought his hammer down in a mighty arc. The blow connected with the level 34 Hex Horn squarely atop its head. A small shockwave erupted from the impact point, a ripple of force that sent the other Hex Horns stumbling sideways, momentarily disoriented. The struck Hex Horn crashed to the ground, a dark stain blooming on its skull where the hammer had connected. Tyler¡¯s gaze shifted to the others, noting the way they skidded to a halt, their momentum checked by the force of the shock wave.
Three of the Hex Horns activated their Charge skill simultaneously. A panel appeared before Tyler, displaying the messages: Hex Horn used skill Charge. Hex Horn used skill Charge. Hex Horn used skill Charge. He felt a jolt of adrenaline as he saw them bearing down on him. He glanced at the fallen Hex Horn¡ªit was still moving, its legs churning despite the blow. The others were almost upon him. With a desperate leap, he launched himself into the air, narrowly avoiding the impact as the charging Hex Horns brushed past each other, their momentum carrying them forward.
The wind whipped past Tyler''s face as he arced through the air, the night air cold against his skin. For a breathless moment, he hung suspended, the forest floor a dizzying distance below. Ten feet. "Whoa, I can jump this high?" he exclaimed, surprised by the height of his leap. The thrill of the near-miss, the adrenaline still surging, fueled his next move. The activation of Kinetic Overload was instantaneous, a familiar surge of power that coursed through his body, igniting his muscles with a fierce energy. His hammer felt like an extension of himself, a conduit for the raw power building within him. The impact was brutal, a bone-jarring collision that sent tremors through his arms and legs. The sound of shattering bone was almost lost in the deafening roar of the released kinetic energy. A shockwave, visible even in the dim light as a shimmering distortion in the air, ripped outwards from the point of impact, throwing the remaining Hex Horns off balance, sending them stumbling and reeling. The scent of blood, sharp and metallic, filled the air. He wasted no time, the momentum of his descent carrying him forward as he sprinted towards the level 26 Hex Horn, his hammer already raised, ready to strike again.
Tyler raised his hammer, poised to strike the level 26 Hex Horn, when the level 42 Hex Horn intervened. With a blur of motion, the larger creature lunged forward, its attack narrowly missing Tyler by a hair''s breadth. The Hex Horn passed through him, a chilling brush against his abdomen as he stumbled backward. He glared at the creature, a grim smile playing on his lips. "I knew you were going to be a problem," he muttered, the words tight with grim determination. He didn''t hesitate, sprinting directly towards the level 42 Hex Horn. With a powerful leap, he launched himself into the air, his hammer raised high above his head, held firmly in both hands.
His hammer descended with the force of a falling meteor, connecting with the Hex Horn''s head. The creature''s tusks shattered under the impact, the sound a sickening crunch that was almost immediately followed by a heavy thud as its head dropped to the ground. Death was instantaneous. Tyler stared, momentarily surprised by the creature''s swift demise. He hadn''t anticipated such a quick kill. Without pausing, he reacted instantly, hurling his hammer with deadly accuracy at the level 26 Hex Horn. The weapon flew through the air, a blur of metal and force, connecting with its target.
The hammer head connected with the Hex Horn''s ribs, the impact producing a sharp crack as bone splintered. A shriek of pain tore from the creature as it collapsed onto its side. Tyler wasted no time. He moved swiftly, his hand forming a fist as he roared, channeling his rage and strength into a single, devastating blow. He slammed his fist into the same spot where his hammer had struck, pulverizing the already fractured ribs. The Hex Horn''s hide offered no protection; the blow was utterly destructive, crushing the ribcage and leaving the creature a broken, lifeless husk.
The hammer, having completed its task, vanished from the ground and reappeared in Tyler''s hand as if drawn by an unseen force. He snapped his head towards the remaining Hex Horn, the level 30, which now seemed distinctly intimidated, its multiple eyes wide with fear. The creature turned and fled. A chuckle escaped Tyler''s lips. "It''s running?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. A shimmering blue panel materialized before him, displaying the system message: Hex Horn used skill: Charge."
"I''m not going to let you do that," Tyler stated, his voice hardening. He activated his Rush skill, his body instantly accelerating, a blur of motion as he closed the distance between himself and the fleeing Hex Horn. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Tyler instantly closed the distance, running alongside the fleeing Hex Horn. With a powerful shove from his shoulder, he sent the creature sprawling to its side. Before it could react, Tyler brought his hammer up in a swift, brutal arc. The blow struck the Hex Horn squarely on the chin, forcing its head back and sending it rolling onto its back. Without hesitation, Tyler delivered a final, crushing blow to its abdomen, ending the creature''s life.
Tyler straightened, a hand instinctively going to his waist. "Extract," he commanded, the word sharp and precise. The hexhorn''s husk shimmered, then vanished, swallowed by the unseen depths of his inventory, along with the horns themselves. He turned and walked towards the fallen hexhorns he''d dispatched earlier. Their bodies lay scattered across the small, dew-kissed grassy clearing, a macabre testament to the recent battle. Without a word, he initiated the system''s extraction process. The hexhorn materials were silently drawn from the corpses, leaving behind only a disconcerting pile of bones and shredded flesh.
He sighed, a long, weary exhale, and checked his inventory. His eyes widened in surprise. A listing for 307 vital flowers appeared. "307," he murmured, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "Last time, it took 7 to make one potion. That means¡ with this many¡ I could probably make¡ about¡ forty? Probably. I wasn''t always good at math, so¡" He trailed off, his voice fading as his hammer vanished into his inventory with another subtle shimmer.
He looked around, the reality of his situation settling in. "I''m lost aren''t i," he muttered, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips. "I just walked this way to get away from that girl without even thinking. Guess I''ll be climbing a tree am." His gaze swept across the clearing, searching for the tallest tree. He spotted it ¨C a tall, slender tree, its branches reaching towards the heavens ¨C and began to approach, his steps purposeful, his mind already calculating the best route to the top.
Tyler climbed the tree effortlessly, his movements fluid and practiced. He reached the top, and the view of the forest unfolded before him. To his surprise, it looked beautiful. This wasn''t the terrifying, endless expanse of his first encounter; this time, the forest held a certain majesty. The fear that had gripped him then¡ªthe dread of a never-ending labyrinth filled with monsters¡ªwas absent. He carefully turned to his right. The river snaked through the landscape, its surface a mirror reflecting the night sky, the moon, and the countless stars. He always noticed this world''s moon was slightly larger than the one from his previous life, its pattern utterly different.
"So, that''s where I''m headed," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the river''s path. "I''ll probably meet some monsters on the way back. Hopefully, they''ll be strong enough to increase my level. But not strong enough to kill me." He began his descent, moving down the tree with the same effortless grace he''d shown ascending. He started towards the river, making his way through the forest, the route imprinted in his mind.
As he walked, a faint murmuring reached his ears, carried on the night breeze. He slowed his pace, trying to pinpoint the source of the sounds. Figures emerged from the shadows ahead. A man, clad in gleaming silver armor that covered him from head to toe, including a metal helmet, came into view. The armor shone under the moonlight, reflecting the starlight. He carried a large, square shield, heavy-looking and crafted from some hard, dark metal. The rhythmic clink of metal boots on the forest floor accompanied his every step. He walked beside a woman, her form less distinct in the shadows, but her presence undeniable.
The woman beside the armored man had striking blue hair, pulled back into a ponytail. In each hand, she held a small axe, their heads gleaming faintly in the moonlight. She wore a dark blue shirt beneath a leather chest plate that covered her abdomen, and black leather pants cinched with a belt holding two daggers. Tyler stopped as they spotted him. "Crap", he thought, "Grone told me not to trust anyone. Since I''m E-rank, he said there''s a high risk of getting robbed by hunters."
"Hey," the woman said, her voice cutting through the night. "Excuse us, but have you seen a Brulin recently?"
"A¡ a Brulin? No, I haven''t," Tyler replied, his voice slightly hesitant.
"Oh, are you sure? Their territory should be just ahead, and it seems like you''re coming from the direction we''re headed," she said, tilting her head slightly.
"No. I didn''t see one," Tyler insisted. "I told you," the man''s deep voice rumbled, "since it''s a well-known territory, other hunters must have killed them all by now."
"Alright," the woman sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Woah, you''re an E-rank? And you''re this deep into the monster zones?" the man said, his voice laced with surprise.
"Yeah, what''s wrong?" Tyler asked, a little defensively.
"You''re right, he is an E-rank hunter," the woman said, addressing her companion. "E-rank hunters usually hunt on the other side of the river, where the weaker monsters are."
"Oh, I didn''t know that," Tyler said, scratching his head sheepishly. He doesn''t seem to be carrying a weapon of any kind, the woman thought, her eyes subtly scanning him. "What quest did you pick?" she asked aloud.
"Hey, let''s stop bothering the newbie and get going already," the man said, his tone impatient.
"Alright, guess we''ll be seeing ya," the woman said with a final sigh, and the pair passed by and continued on their way, their metallic footsteps fading into the distance.
"They really didn''t seem like bad people," Tyler murmured to himself, the words lost in the rustling leaves as he continued his trek towards the river. He walked on, deeper and deeper into the now-dark forest, the trees looming like silent sentinels. Then, he saw it. A small, dark creature huddled on the ground, licking its paw. It was incredibly small, almost puppy-sized, and its form was indistinct in the dim light. He approached cautiously, his steps slow and deliberate. As he drew closer, the creature snapped its head up, its eyes fixing on him. It didn''t bark or growl; it simply stared, its gaze unnervingly intense.
"Its a Gloom fang?" Tyler breathed, surprise coloring his voice. It was a gloom fang. He saw it clearly now: the soft, blue fur, the luminous blue eyes. To his astonishment, it looked¡cute. Small and vulnerable, it seemed almost harmless. Tyler muttered, "Wow, to think this thing is going to turn into that. That''s absurd." Then, a memory flickered in his mind, a detail he''d completely forgotten. "Right," he murmured, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Don''t I have a skill that can turn any monster into my pet?"
Tyler then remembered the shadow walker he''d fought earlier in the forest. "No," he muttered, a wave of self-reproach washing over him. "How could I completely forget about that? I could have used it on the shadow walker! Man, it could have been a pretty cool pet to have around. Just imagine what it could do!" He paused, a new thought occurring to him. "And I think these monsters can actually level up¡"
His thought was cut short by a guttural growl. He whipped his head to the side to see another gloom fang launching itself at him. He instinctively protected his head with one hand, but the creature''s jaws clamped down on his wrist, sending a jolt of pain through him and throwing him to the ground. He used his other hand to push himself up, summoning his strength to throw the gloom fang away. It landed on its side with a small, whimpering howl of pain. To Tyler''s astonishment, the larger gloom fang immediately scrambled in front of the smaller one, as if to shield it.
"Wait, is that its¡ offspring?" Tyler said, surprise evident in his voice. He glanced at the monsters'' levels, displayed clearly in his vision. The small one was level 1; the larger one, a formidable level 30. He stood, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "I thought these monsters just¡spun out of nowhere. That''s what Grone said. I think he said they spawn. Does this mean they actually breed and multiply?"
The level 30 gloom fang charged. "I''m sorry about this," Tyler muttered, a grim determination settling on his face. With a thought, his hammer materialized in his hand. As the gloom fang lunged, he swung the hammer in a wide arc, striking the creature squarely under the chin. The blow sent the level 30 gloom fang hurtling into the air. The smaller gloom fang, seeing its larger companion sent flying, darted into the woods. Tyler watched it go, then turned his attention back to the level 30 gloom fang. It lay on the ground, bleeding from its mouth and nose, clearly on the verge of death.
He approached the fallen gloom fang. "Oh man, this makes me look pretty cold, doesn''t it?" he muttered, a frown tugging at his lips. He looked at the creature, a pang of sympathy hitting him. "I''m truly sorry about this," he said softly, "but this is how things go, I guess." He raised his hammer, prepared to deliver the final blow. Before he could bring it down, however, the gloom fang stopped twitching. A system message flashed before his eyes: Level Up!
Tyler was surprised. "Oh, it''s already dead?" he asked himself, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. The system panel shimmered into existence once more: Achievement Unlocked: D-Rank hunter+20 stat points for each stat. New Skill has been unlocked.
"Woah, 20 points for each stat? I also obtained a new skill! This is awesome!" Tyler exclaimed as he continued to open his status menu.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: D
LVL: 40
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 158/158 MP: 151/151
STR: 145 AGI: 143
DEF: 190 STM: 141
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy, Accessory Craft
Equipped Skills: Rush - MC 17, Bash - MC 15, Kinetic Overload - MC 22
Just as Tyler was staring at the screen, another panel popped up, displaying: Congratulations! The user has reached a level that qualifies him to view five of the main objectives.
Chapter 39: Quest Complete
Tyler looked at the system panel and said, "View the objectives." The panel closed instantly, replaced by another displaying:
Objectives (Ranked by Difficulty)
1. Use Primal Subjugation.
2. Craft 10 different weapons.
3. Slaughter 50 Monsters.
4. Reach level 100.
5. Kill the Whisper Wind Angel.
Rewards will be given according to the objective''s difficulty.
"Oh, so these are the objectives," Tyler murmured, slowly reading through the list. "The first three don''t sound that hard. But the last two? I was planning on reaching level 100 sooner or later, but what is a Whisper Wind Angel? It seems to be the most difficult one since it''s listed last. This must mean it''s probably stronger than a level 100 hunter."
The system panel disappeared. "Oh well," Tyler said, a grin spreading across his face. "First, I have to go get my rank assessed. I bet Grone is going to be super surprised that I already reached D-rank."
Meanwhile, back in the dungeon, Emily sat uncomfortably on the cold stone floor. The air hung heavy with the stench of stale urine; a dead mouse lay decomposing in the corner. The added stench of the rodent was almost unbearable. Emily quickly covered her nose, went to the corner, grabbed the mouse by its tail, and flung it out of the cell with a disgusted heave.
Right then, Emily heard footsteps echoing down the dungeon corridor, approaching her cell. A moment later, she saw the guard she''d seen talking to Tyler earlier that day. He crouched down, sliding a metal plate containing food into her cell. Emily snatched up the plate¡ªit contained a meager portion of stew and a spoon¡ªand began to eat ravenously.
"You were really hungry, weren''t you?" the guard commented, his voice a low murmur. Before Emily could reply, she heard another set of footsteps entering the dungeon, closer this time.
Another guard walked up to the first, standing beside him and looking down at Emily. A cruel grin stretched across his face as he regarded her, his gaze lingering in a way that made Emily feel deeply uncomfortable and disgusted.
"Hey, what are you doing?" the newcomer sneered. "You shouldn''t feed her like that. You''re just giving her energy to fight back tomorrow." He clapped a hand on the first guard''s shoulder, his grip tight. "Don''t you want to enjoy yourself tomorrow?"
The first guard shrugged off the hand. "No, I''m fine."
"What do you mean you''re fine? I heard you told the other guards a story earlier," the second guard said, his voice dripping with malicious amusement. "Something about a total stranger saying he''s going to pay for her crimes and let her out?" He burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the confined space of the dungeon. "I''d be surprised if he didn''t pay us extra to join in the fun," he continued, licking his lips. "And she''s pretty young too, still fresh¡ but not after tomorrow, am I right?" He looked expectantly at the other guard.
The first guard remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Emily felt a shiver crawl down her spine at the guard''s words. She lost her appetite, pushing the plate of food away.
"Why aren''t you saying anything? What, you think you''re better than me?" the second guard pressed, his voice laced with menace. "You''re just a new recruit. You don''t know how things really work around here, do you? You probably only know through rumors. But don''t worry, you''ll know everything tomorrow night. And you''re going to be thankful," he said, his voice thick with anticipation. With a final, chilling laugh, the guard turned and left, leaving Emily alone with her fear and the untouched food.
Meanwhile, Tyler reached the river without encountering a single monster. Before crossing, he paused, looking around the area. "Did the other monsters get killed by other hunters? That''s probably it," he mused, then proceeded to cross the river. He continued walking, the path ahead seemingly clear. Then, he saw them: a young man, roughly his own size, with a bowl cut, wielding a sword, chasing a slime. The slime, surprisingly agile, hopped away, seemingly trying to escape.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Suddenly, a system message flashed before Tyler''s eyes: Slime has activated skill: Bash.
"Watch out!" Tyler exclaimed, his eyes widening. Before he could react, the slime bounced off the ground with surprising force, slamming directly into the hunter''s chest. The hunter stumbled, falling heavily to the ground.
Tyler reacted instantly, sprinting towards the scene with incredible speed. The hunter, stunned by the slime''s attack and even more amazed by Tyler''s speed, could only watch as Tyler arrived in a flash. With a powerful kick, Tyler sent the slime hurtling through the air, smashing it against a tree. The slime instantly disintegrated into blue dust, which faded quickly in the wind.
Tyler looked down at the fallen hunter, his system automatically displaying the man''s name and level above his head like a shimmering halo: Steve Branch: Level 34. He extended a hand. "Here, take my hand."
"Oh, thank you," Steve said, gratefully using Tyler''s hand to pull himself to his feet. His eyes widened as he noticed Tyler''s necklace¡ªa clear indicator of E-rank status, the same as his own. "Whoa, you''re an E-rank hunter? Are you an assassin type?"
"Yeah, how do you know?" Tyler asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Well, you''re super fast," Steve replied, "and it seems like you''re not wearing any metal armor that might slow you down. That''s what assassins are known for. Anyways, thank you for helping me. You kind of took my kill, but I can still have the core, right?"
Tyler looked at him and shrugged. "Sure, you can have the core. I was just trying to help. Anyways, I''m going back to base," Tyler said, turning to leave.
Unbeknownst to Tyler, Steve swiftly drew a dagger from his belt and lunged, aiming for Tyler''s exposed neck. Tyler reacted instantly, spinning around and seizing Steve''s wrist in an iron grip. He looked Steve directly in the eyes, his expression hardening. "What the heck are you doing?"
Steve''s heart pounded in his chest as he met Tyler''s intense gaze. Something extraordinary happened then. Tyler''s eyes shimmered¡ªa faint, almost imperceptible blue¡ªfor a fraction of a second, sending a jolt of icy fear down Steve''s spine.
Tyler examined the dagger Steve held, his surprise evident. It was a copper dagger, identical in design to every other copper daggers he''d ever crafted. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"It looked like you had some pretty expensive gear," Steve stammered, his eyes darting around nervously. "I thought if¡ª" His words were cut short as Tyler''s grip tightened, causing a sharp pain in his wrist. Steve tried to use his free hand to punch Tyler, but Tyler was faster, grabbing his other arm and quickly pinning both arms between his own, trapping Steve''s movements. With a swift headbutt, Tyler sent Steve sprawling to the forest floor.
Both men groaned; Tyler from the impact of the headbutt, Steve from the force of the fall and the pain in his wrists. Blood trickled from Steve''s forehead.
"You''re seriously just going to kill me for my gear?" Tyler said, his voice laced with disbelief. "What if I killed you right now and took your gear?" His hammer materialized in his hand, its weight familiar and comforting. He extended it towards the cowering Steve.
Steve recoiled, his eyes wide with terror. He hadn''t expected such a swift and decisive response; he''d thought he had a chance, believing Tyler was unarmed and also an E-rank. "Oh please, I''m¡ I''m sorry!" Steve cried, scrambling backward. He dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the ground. "Sorry! Please forgive me, sir! I shouldn''t have done that!"
Tyler looked down at him, a mixture of anger and pity in his eyes. He sighed. "I wasn''t going to kill you, anyways." He walked over to the nearby slime core. "I''m taking the slime core. But if you try anything like that again¡ you die."
Tyler looked at the slime core on the ground. It shimmered blue, then vanished into his inventory. Steve watched, his eyes wide with astonishment. Tyler simply glanced at him, his hammer disappearing with a similar shimmer. He turned and walked away, leaving Steve staring after him in stunned silence. "Is that guy really an E-Rank?" Steve wondered, still shaken.
Tyler walked through the forest, eventually reaching the familiar clearing and the crossroads base. He passed through the open gate, the sights and sounds of the base¡ªthe restaurants, the inns¡ªa comforting familiarity.
He stopped before heading to the tent, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Oh, right," he murmured. "The Brunish tree was actually my quest, but I don''t have to give him the whole tree, right?" The Brunish tree materialized in his hand, causing a few nearby hunters to pause and stare in surprise before continuing on their way. Others simply watched him with open curiosity.
"Ah," Tyler muttered, "I probably shouldn''t keep using this ability in front of people." He began carefully plucking leaves from the Brunish tree. "This branch might be some other ingredient in alchemy, so I can''t let all the leaves go to waste, right?" He plucked leaf after leaf, stuffing his pockets until they were overflowing. With a final shimmer, the Brunish tree vanished back into his inventory. He then walked over to the tent and saw the young man he''d spoken to earlier. "Hey," he said, "I''m back."
The man looked Tyler up and down, his eyes lingering on the necklace and the distinctive style of his armor. Recognition dawned on his face. "Oh," he said, "it''s you. Um, Tyler, right?"
"Yeah," Tyler replied.
The man ducked under the counter, emerging a moment later with the quest flyer. "Did you return with the materials you were supposed to get?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, and proceeded to pull a large quantity of Brunish leaves from his pockets, piling them on the counter.
The man''s eyes widened. "Whoa, you came back with a lot, didn''t you? I hope you didn''t have any difficulties with monsters. It looks like you had quite a lot in your pockets. Were you able to fight your way through monsters comfortably with these?"
Tyler chuckled nervously, knowing he was stretching the truth. "Oh, it wasn''t easy," he said.
The man behind the counter nodded, taking a small sack and carefully brushing the leaves into it. "All right," he said, tying off the sack. "Looks like you''ve completed your first quest." He pointed to a space on the quest flyer. "Sign here."
Tyler took the offered pencil and signed his name. The young man then produced a small pouch containing a few coins.
"Oh, is that the reward?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," the man replied. "Nine copper coins, remember?"
"Ah, yeah, yeah, thanks," Tyler said, gratefully accepting the pouch and the coins.
Tyler turned to leave, but the young man called out, "Oh, hey, wait!"
Tyler turned back. "What?"
"Um," the young man said, "there was a D-rank hunter looking for you. She told me to tell you to meet her at the restaurant."
"Oh, okay," Tyler replied, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"Do you know her?" the young man asked.
"Um, a little," Tyler answered vaguely.
"Oh, alright. Good luck then," the young man said with a smile.
"Bye," Tyler said, and continued on his way.
As he headed towards the inn, Tyler mused to himself, "What does she want from me? Now that I think about it, she''s probably holding a grudge. I mean, I did take all the spoils from that battle¡ªbut it was to teach her a lesson! She once took the hexhorn hide from me as well, so I think we''re even. Anyways, I''m not going to that restaurant. I''m gonna have to sleep at the inn, and after that, I''m gonna go for my Hunter Rank Assessment tomorrow, and I''m gonna hunt all day. I have to make sure I get Emily out of that dungeon."
Chapter 40: Right Then
The system panel appeared before Tyler, stopping him in his tracks:
E-Rank Quest Complete - Rewards:
+1 point to each stat.
Armor Recipe: 1 Hexhorn Hide, 2 Hexhorn Horns ¡ú Leather Boots
Weapon Recipe: 20 Hexhorn Horns, 12 Iron Ores ¡ú Offense Shield
Accessory Recipe: 1 Adas Tree Leaf, 2 Small Iron Ores ¡ú Luck Necklace
Alchemy Recipe: 100ml Brulin Blood, 500ml Water, 1 Hexhorn ¡ú Weak Defense Potion
"Wow, those are a lot of recipes," Tyler said, "Luckily, I have some of these materials. I was only given one point for each stat though. Is it because it was only an E-rank quest?" he mused. The system panel vanished. "I have to go and get something to eat; I feel pretty hungry. But that girl is waiting for me at that restaurant. What if she''s waiting to ambush me with her colleagues? She did say she had other people that time," Tyler pondered, stroking his chin. "Nah," he decided, "I''m just gonna go to sleep. I don''t really need to eat anyway." He headed towards the inn.
Tyler arrived at the inn and pushed open the door. A man and a woman stood behind the counter. He approached them.
"Ah, welcome to the Crossroads Inn," the man said. "Are you planning to stay here for the night?"
"Um, yes," Tyler replied. "How much is a night here?"
"Oh, it''s seven copper coins if you want to sleep in the cheap rooms," the man said, "but if you want to sleep in the better ones, it''s one silver coin."
Tyler''s eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh, seven copper coins, huh? And one silver¡" He extended his hand, and seven copper coins materialized on his palm, startling the innkeeper. "Damn it, Tyler thought, "why do I keep doing this? I immediately forgot I shouldn''t use the inventory in front of others, or they might think I''m some kind of mage hunter or something. I don''t want to draw too much attention to myself." He quickly handed the coins to the innkeeper.
"There''s a hallway on the right," the innkeeper said, pointing. "Use the last room at the end."
"Thank you," Tyler said, heading down the hallway, leaving the innkeepers alone.
"Was that an E-rank hunter?" the woman asked, her eyes following Tyler''s retreating figure.
"Yeah," the man replied, "but his armor looks quite good. It must have been expensive. He must come from a fortunate family."
"Yeah, it looks like it," the woman agreed. "But it looks like he was worried about seven coins, though. I mean, if he came from a fortunate family, couldn''t he afford the seven copper coins?"
Tyler entered the room and saw the small, uncomfortable bed, reminiscent of the one Grone slept in. The blankets were neatly arranged. He sat down on the bed and sighed, the day''s events weighing on him. He checked his status menu, and the system panel appeared:
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: D
LVL: 40
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 159/159 MP: 152/152
STR: 146 AGI: 144
DEF: 191 STM: 142
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy, Accessory Craft
Equipped Skills: Rush - MC 17, Bash - MC 15, Kinetic Overload - MC 22
"To think that all my stats are three digits now," Tyler said, flexing his muscles, clenching and unclenching his fist. "I''ve grown really strong." He paused, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "I can''t believe I almost got killed twice in a row on my first quest. That girl threatened to kill me, and that guy almost killed me too. If I hadn''t reacted, I could have died. But something was off about him. Those daggers¡ they looked exactly like my own. Is it possible that he bought the daggers?"
He considered another question. "Oh, and if someone buys my weapons, can I still summon them to my inventory?" He mentally tried to summon his daggers back. "Nah," he decided, "I don''t want to summon them. If someone has them, what if they''re in danger? If they need them? And if I summon them, I''m going to have to go all the way back and give them to Hector again."
Tyler looked up and said, "System, are these the only objectives I have to fulfill to return to my other world?"
The system panel appeared: User still has 50+ objectives to fulfill in order to return to their world of origin.
Tyler''s eyes widened in surprise. "Fifty plus? Wait, I have to complete more than fifty of them? Will I be given a reward for each and every one I complete?"
The system responded: Correct. Rewards will be given according to the objective''s difficulty.
A slow smile spread across Tyler''s face. "Well," he mused, "I don''t really want to go home, but I think I can actually use this system. It wants me to complete these objectives, and it''s going to give me rewards if I keep completing them. I really want to live a better life in this place, and I want to repay Grone. And after that, there''s a lot I want to do. So I''m going to have to use it. I''m going to have to get those rewards."
His armor shimmered and vanished, leaving him in his ordinary clothes¡ªexcept for his shoes. He looked down at them. "Man," he sighed, "these shoes are all ruined. I''m still wearing shoes from my other world, and now they''re dirty and slightly ripped. Luckily, I already got a recipe for boots, and I already have the materials. I''ll craft them tomorrow. Right now, I just need to get some sleep. I''m not tired though¡ is it because of my stamina? Or is it because I leveled up? It''s probably both."
Tyler leaned back against the bed, pulling the blanket up to cover himself. He rubbed his legs together, using the friction to help him remove his shoes. Looking up at the ceiling, he sighed. "I should just probably go to sleep. Oh man, this is going to take about an hour before I really go to sleep, isn''t it? Still, I wonder¡ I wonder what''s going on in my world. They probably worried about me for a second, and then probably forgot, right? I hope Mike''s job is paying well."
Tyler unconsciously fell asleep, his mind still drifting on memories of his past life. The night sky, initially ablaze with sparkling stars, gradually faded as the morning light conquered the darkness. Day replaced night, the transition seamless. With a groan, Tyler woke. He threw back the blanket, pulled on his shoes, stood, and yawned, stretching his muscles. "Ah," he said, "I have to go get my rank assessed." He mentally equipped his gloom armor and walked out of the room.
Passing the counter, he heard the innkeeper from the previous day greet him. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Tyler replied, continuing his walk. As he was almost out the door, the innkeeper called out, "I hope you enjoyed your stay!"
Tyler looked back and said, "I did, thank you," before stepping out into the bustling morning of the crossroads base. Hunters were already moving about, preparing for the day. "Huh," Tyler commented, "work here at least starts early in the morning, huh." He spotted the quest tent. "I guess I''m going to have to take some more quests after getting my rank assessed."
He headed towards the rank assessment office, remembering his previous visit with Grone. He opened the door and stepped inside. The tables beside the counter were empty, but Charles stood behind it. Tyler''s entrance seemed to surprise him.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Oh, good morning," Charles said, a slightly hesitant tone in his voice. "Aren''t you¡"
"Huh?" Tyler questioned, tilting his head.
Charles stammered, "Uh, nothing. I thought I was¡ I might be confusing you with someone¡"
"Um, I don''t think you are," Tyler said, a little confused. "Well, I once came in here with Grone to get my rank assessed."
"Oh, yeah," Charles said, a look of recognition dawning on his face. "You''re that young man who came in with Grone. I thought I recognized you, but you look so different. And where did you get that armor?"
"Oh, this? I crafted it myself," Tyler replied proudly.
"Wow," Charles exclaimed, "so you''re a craftsman, too? Oh, you''re already a hunter, I see. You''re an E-rank. So you want to see if you''ve leveled up from your recent monster hunts?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed.
"Okay then, follow me," Charles said, leading Tyler upstairs to the familiar room where he''d had his rank assessed before. Charles knocked on the door. "Sir, I have a hunter here to assess their rank."
A familiar voice called from inside, "This early in the morning? Okay, come in."
Tyler entered the room and saw the same man from his previous assessment. The man looked at Tyler with a puzzled expression. "Oh, I''ve never seen him here before. Are you a new hunter, or did you come from another base?"
"Oh, I''m a new hunter," Tyler replied.
"Huh," the man said, intrigued. Charles chuckled. "Sir, you don''t recognize him?"
"What are you talking about?" the man asked, clearly confused.
"This is the person who came in here with Grone that time to get his level assessed," Charles explained. "You know, I don''t think you can ever forget this one. The G-rank incident."
The man''s eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, right. This kid who made the orb malfunction. So you''re that one, huh? You want to get your rank assessed?"
"Yes, I want to get my rank assessed," Tyler said. "I''ve killed a lot of monsters recently, and I think I might have leveled up."
"Oh, how long have you been a hunter?" the man asked.
"Oh, I just took on my first quest recently, and I finished it," Tyler replied.
Charles''s eyebrows shot up. "Your first quest? Wait, you just took on one quest, and you want to see if you''ve leveled up?"
The man chuckled. "Well, kid, you might be disappointed. We all know E-rank hunters don''t get a lot of quests telling them to come back with monster hides or monster materials¡ªthere are just a few. Anyways, who are we to say? Just put your hand on the orb there, pour in a bit of your mana, and we''ll see."
Tyler nodded, his heart beating nervously. He placed his fingers on the smooth, black orb, his palm resting on its cool, glass-like surface. The orb glowed a faint bluish light. Tyler watched as a wet, shimmering inscription appeared and solidified on the glass on top of the orb:
D-Rank- Level 40.
Both Charles and the man stared in astonishment.
"Whoa," Charles exclaimed, "you''re already a D-rank?"
The man shook his head in disbelief. "Well, I didn''t expect that. Wait, when you went into town with Grone, what was your level?"
Tyler replied, "My level was 30."
Charles''s jaw dropped. "Only 30? And you''re now a D-rank?"
"Jeez, kid," the man said, shaking his head, "what kind of monsters were you hunting? There must have been all D-ranks for you to end up here. Or are you in some kind of guild? Because that''s the only way it makes sense¡ªthey''d probably be weakening the monsters for you so you can kill them and level up."
"No," Tyler replied, "I''m not in a guild. I was actually hunting alone. I ran into¡ what was it again? Oh, right, a Shadow Walker."
Charles and the man exchanged surprised glances. "What? A Shadow Walker?" Charles exclaimed. "Are you serious? Did you hunt last night?"
"Yes," Tyler said, "I managed to kill it, but I almost died in the process."
"Did you manage to take its hide?" the man asked.
"Yeah," Tyler said, "I managed to take its hide."
"Where is it?" the man asked. "Did you leave it at the inn? Because that hide is going to be worth a lot of money, and the claws too. This thing is probably worth about fifteen gold and so on."
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Whoa, fifteen gold," he thought. "Yeah," he said. "Anyway, can I¡ I don''t know what it''s called¡ get my D-rank necklace so I can be seen as a D-rank hunter?"
"Yes, of course," the man said. He went behind his desk and sat down. "Since you''ve been recognized as a D-rank hunter, I''m going to have to take your signature." He pulled out a file and a piece of paper. "Please sign here."
Tyler signed his name, surprised by the almost automatic movement of his hand.
"Wow," the man commented, looking at Tyler''s signature, "that''s some terrible handwriting."
Tyler mumbled an embarrassed response.
"It''s okay, I can still read it," the man said, then pointed to another space on the form. "Oh, you can also sign here."
Tyler signed his name again. The man took a stamp and stamped the form. "Okay," he announced, "you are now a D-rank hunter. I want you to give me your old necklace."
Tyler removed his E-rank necklace and handed it to the man, who placed it in a drawer. A series of clinking sounds followed as the man retrieved a different necklace. He removed a silver necklace bearing the letter ''D'' and handed it to Tyler.
Tyler put on the new necklace.
"Oh, I forgot something," the man said, retrieving the form again. "Ah, you''re an assassin-type hunter, right?"
"Oh, yeah," Tyler replied, "how did you know?"
"Well," the man explained, "you''re not wearing any armor. I mean, you''d have to be a mage hunter, I think. You are one, right?"
"Oh yeah, you got that right. I am an assassin-type hunter," Tyler confirmed.
The man wrote something on the form that Tyler couldn''t make out, then filed it away. "Okay," he said, "you are now officially a D-rank hunter, Mr. Evans."
Tyler stood up. "Oh, thank you."
Charles chimed in, "Congratulations! You''re now a D-rank hunter!"
"Thanks," Tyler replied.
"Oh, we can leave now," Charles said, leading Tyler out of the room.
Tyler followed Charles down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, Charles said, "Okay, kid, good luck."
"Alright, I''ll see you later," Tyler replied, heading out into the clearing.
Charles watched him go, shaking his head. "Wow," he murmured to himself, "to think he leveled up this fast. Was he really a level 30, or did he just make that up? He probably made up the story about fighting the Shadow Walker, too. Anyways, he''s a D-rank hunter now."
Tyler walked through the clearing, heading towards the quest tent. "I''m going to have to go and get a quest¡ªa D-rank quest¡ªand probably make a lot of money," he thought. "For now, I have one gold coin and six copper coins. And I''m going to have to help that girl today, otherwise she''s going to get punished. And that''s not all¡"
He arrived at the tent and saw the young man behind the counter.
"Hi," Tyler said.
"Oh, hi," the young man began, "are you here to take a¡ª" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he noticed Tyler''s D-rank necklace. "Woah, you''re already a D-rank hunter?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, a smile spreading across his face. "I got my rank assessment today, and turns out I actually leveled up enough to be a D-rank hunter. So right now, I want to take on a D-rank quest."
"Oh, alright," the young man said. "There are actually some D-rank quests now. I''ll put them here, and you can choose." He took out several quest flyers and placed them on the counter. Tyler leaned in to examine the flyers.
Tyler scanned the quest flyers. He saw one for bringing back seven slime cores, another for the armor of a level 30 Brulin, and yet another for a specific type of plant. He continued browsing until he spotted a familiar one¡ªa quest to collect six Venom Blooms, worth four gold coins.
"Oh, this one," Tyler said, pointing to the flyer.
"If you look at this flyer," the young man said, pointing to a small note at the bottom, "it says it''s recommended for D-plus rank hunters. Are you a D-plus?"
"What do you mean, a D-plus?" Tyler asked, confused.
"Well," the young man explained, "if you''re above level 45, you should be considered D-plus."
"Oh," Tyler said, "I''m not exactly D-plus, but does that mean I can''t do the quest?"
"No," the young man replied, "it''s only a recommendation."
"Why exactly is this quest recommending D-plus rank? It''s not like it''s that hard," Tyler questioned.
"Oh, but it is," the young man said. "You see, it''s said that where Venom Bloom trees grow, most monsters like to reside. And most Venom Blooms grow beside rivers, and monsters hang around rivers to be close to the water."
"Oh," Tyler said, "but I haven''t run into any monsters when I was near the Venom Bloom tree."
The young man''s eyes widened. "Wait, you actually know where the Venom Bloom trees are? You''ve actually been there?"
"Yes," Tyler said, a smile spreading across his face, "I actually have some right now."
The young man looked at Tyler, noticing he wasn''t carrying anything. "Um," he said, "did you leave them at the inn?"
"Oh, no," Tyler replied, "uh, just give me a sec, and I''ll put them inside."
"You weren''t carrying them in a sack?" the young man asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
"Oh, no," Tyler reassured him, "just give me a sec, trust me, I''ll put them inside."
"Oh, okay," the young man said, hesitantly. He ducked under the counter and returned with a small brown sack, handing it to Tyler.
Tyler opened the sack and reached inside. The young man saw a faint light emanating from within, shimmering slightly. He watched, astonished, as the small sack quickly filled with round objects.
Tyler smiled, a pleased expression on his face. "Here," he said, handing the sack back to the young man.
The young man retrieved the sack, his eyes wide with wonder. "Wow, this is amazing! How did you do that? With your gear, someone might think you''re an assassin-type hunter, but are you a mage hunter? I heard mage hunters can do something like this."
Tyler shook his head. "No, I''m actually an assassin, but this is my ability. Anyways, those are six Venom Blooms, right?"
"Ah, yes," the young man confirmed. "Oh, since you''ve completed the quest, I want you to sign here."
Tyler took the pencil and signed his name.
"Okay," the young man said, ducking under the counter again. He returned with four gold coins.
Tyler looked through the remaining quest flyers. He found one that required six slime cores. "Oh, I want to do this one," he said, pointing to the flyer.
"Okay," the young man said, "sign your name on it." Tyler signed his name. The young man gathered the other flyers and pinned them back on the quest board.
"Okay," Tyler said, "can you give me another sack?"
"Oh, you want to go get them?" the young man asked.
"Oh, I already have them," Tyler replied. "I want to put them inside there, too."
"How many do you have?" the young man asked, intrigued. "And why are you getting them?"
"Oh, that I can''t say," Tyler responded mysteriously.
The young man shrugged. "Oh, okay." He ducked under the table and emerged with another small sack, handing it to Tyler.
Tyler looked into the sack, and six slime cores of varying sizes materialized inside. "Oh, okay, here," he said, handing the sack back.
The young man peered inside, his eyes widening. "Whoa, so you fought all these slimes? Each one is a different size!"
"Yeah, I did," Tyler confirmed. "Anyways, it said these slime cores cost two gold coins, right?"
"Uh, yes," the young man replied, a little dazed. He ducked under the table and returned with two gold coins.
"Can I get another quest?" Tyler asked. "I mean, I saw another quest that was worth, like, another two gold coins. It was about a level 30 Brolin."
The young man looked at Tyler thoughtfully. "Is there by any chance you already have the Brolin''s armor?"
"Ah, no, no," Tyler said, shaking his head. "This time I really am going to do the quest."
"Oh, okay," the young man said, retrieving a quest flyer from the board. "Here, you can sign here."
Tyler signed the flyer. The young man tucked it away under the counter.
"Man," Tyler commented, "don''t you get dizzy ducking under the counter almost all the time?"
"Nah, it''s alright," the young man replied, "I''m used to it. Anyways, good luck on your quest, alright?"
"Ah, yeah, you too," Tyler said automatically.
The young man paused, a slightly confused expression on his face. "Ah," he thought, "why did I say "you too"?"
Tyler left the crossroads base and headed into the forest. He recalled Grone''s description of Brolins. *Grone said they''re short creatures that walk on two legs. They curl up into a ball and have some kind of hard, copper-like armor. I can''t wait to meet them. I wonder if their armor has enough copper material for me to craft something."
He continued walking, his thoughts turning to Grone''s advice on finding them. "Grone said they''re pretty hard and strong, and they like clearings with less grass and more dirt. He said somewhere¡ he said I have to get to the place where I almost got killed by those Hexhorns and keep walking straight."
The system panel materialized before Tyler:
You have completed 2 D-Rank quests. You shall receive rewards.
Chapter 40.1 Monsters and kills
Monsters Killed
Hexhorn: 7
Crimson wolf: 2
shadow claw: 4
slimes: 28
slither: 2
Elin: 1
Gloomfang: 3
Shadow walker: 1
Monster killed: 48
Monster we know:
Shadow Claw: A cute but deadly creature resembling a rabbit, except its fur is dark black, and it has glowing red eyes that intensify in moonlight. It emits a shriek when attacking. Skills: Shadow Claw, Shadow Step.
Slither: An eel-like creature with a cream-white color, slithering like a snake. It is eyeless and possesses long, sharp, yellow teeth. Its size and length increase with level. It has no listed skills.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Gloomfang: A dog-like creature with blue fur, blue eyes, and black claws. Its size does not change with level increases. Skill: Rush.
Elin: A bird-like creature nearly identical to an eagle, but larger and possessing a third eye in the center of its forehead. Skills: Cyclone Wing, Zoom.
Craven: A blue bird, approximately the size of a fully grown rooster, with an owl-like appearance. Skill: Lighten.
Drako: A large green lizard with smooth, scaleless skin, a powerful jaw, black eyes, and a red, forked tongue. Skill: Claw.
Pixel: A bird resembling a peacock but with long flamingo-like legs. Its plumage is blue from the head to the waist, transitioning to a different color from the waist to its legs. It possesses wings that abruptly and continuously shift colors. Skills: Hypnotize, Sonic Pulse.
Slime: A gelatinous, round creature with a slimy texture. Slimes can absorb each other, resulting in increased size, level, and durability. Skill: Bash.
Crimson Wolf: A wolf-like creature with predominantly red fur, accented by white fur on its chest. Regardless of level, its lifespan and HP remain low; however, its attack power increases significantly with each level, as does its size, up to a certain limit. Skills: Red Rush, Claw.
Hexhorn: A warthog-like creature with six horns and thick, tough hide that is difficult to penetrate. It is brown in color and has a diet consisting of grass and fruits. Hexhorns are aggressive towards both humans and other creatures. Their size and toughness increase with level. Skill: Charge.
Lurker: An eel like creture that lives in water. Has blue scaly skin and black eyes. Skill: Surge.
Shadow Walker: Similar To a shadow walker the Shadow walker looks like is rabbit with soft black fur and red eyes that gleam in the moonlight. It is slightly taller than the Shadow claws. It has more teethe than shadow claws as well that which are pointy. It is very very fast and slightly stronger than the shadow claws. Skills: Shadow Step, Shadow Den, Shadow Strike.
Boss Monster
The Shadow Walker: A creature resembling a rabbit yet far exceeding its innocent guise, possesses soft, black fur and eyes like rubies, gleaming fiercely in the moonlight. Taller and more powerfully built than the Shadow Claws, its numerous, needle-sharp teeth hint at a predatory nature. Its speed is unmatched, a blur of motion, and its strength surpasses even that of the Shadow Claws. Skills: Shadow Step, Shadow Den, Shadow Strike.
Chapter 41: The last quest.
Tyler stared at the system screen displaying his rewards:
Quest Rewards:
+2 stat points to each stat.
Armor Recipe: 2 Medium Copper Ores, 15 Medium Silver Ores ¡ú Shine Armor
Weapon Recipe: 1 Medium Silver Ore, 12 Medium Iron Ores ¡ú 2-Handed Axe
Accessory Recipe: 500ml Holy Water, 1 Small Copper Ore, Level 30+ Slime Core ¡ú Necklace of Growth
Alchemy Recipe: 1 Venom Bloom, 200ml Slither Blood, 5 Brunish Tree Leaves ¡ú Poison Blend (For User)
"More recipes," Tyler muttered, "I''ll look at them later." The system panel vanished, only to be replaced by another:
Quest Rewards:
+2 stat points to each stat.
Armor Recipe: 1 Hexhorn Hide ¡ú Leather Gloves
Weapon Recipe: 3 Adas Tree Branches, 1 Drain String ¡ú Wood Bow
Accessory Recipe: 7 Slime Cores, 2 Small Iron Ores ¡ú Necklace of Durability
Alchemy Recipe: 20 Vital Flowers, 500ml Water, 10 Sunleaf Plant Leafs ¡ú Light Healing Potion
"Another one, huh?" Tyler said, continuing his walk as the system panel disappeared. "This accessory crafting ability isn''t bad. So I get to craft necklaces that boost my stats. At least, that''s what I think they''ll do."
Tyler looked ahead. "All right," he muttered, "looks like I have to cross the river to get to that place."
As he walked towards the river, he spotted a figure: a dark-skinned, bald man in leather armor, several hex-horn hides slung over his shoulder. The man was heading in the opposite direction. Tyler maintained his guard as they approached, exchanging only brief glances as they passed. The man''s necklace caught Tyler''s eye¡ªa red pendant bearing the letter ''C''.
"So that man''s a C-rank hunter,"Tyler thought. "I wonder why his necklace is colored like that. Why is it red?"
He continued walking, and then, between the trees, a crimson wolf appeared, growling menacingly. But Tyler felt no fear, no intimidation. He held out his hand, and his hammer materialized. A level indicator appeared above the wolf''s head: Level 28. Tyler felt a slight pang of disappointment. "Do I even need to use a skill at this point?"
The crimson wolf lunged. Tyler swung his hammer with all his might. The hammerhead connected with the wolf''s neck, a loud crack echoing through the trees, followed by a small, pained howl.
The crimson wolf tumbled across the ground, its body rolling several times before coming to a stop. Tyler approached the fallen beast. He spoke a single word: "Extract." The crimson wolf''s red hide shimmered and vanished, leaving behind only its flesh, bones, and claws. Tyler turned and continued his journey.
"Is this why those people said E-ranks mostly hunt on this side?"he mused. "It''s true, the monsters here are relatively weak. Anyways, because I''m a D-rank now, I can cross the river without anyone being surprised that an E-rank hunter is doing so."
He reached the riverbank, finding a convenient crossing point. As he stepped onto the stepping stones, the system message appeared: Lurker activated skill: Surge.
Before he could react, a creature resembling a giant eel, its scales shimmering blue, burst from the water. The creature''s sudden attack sent Tyler sprawling into the river. He reacted instantly, grabbing the creature by the neck as it launched itself at him.
Underwater, Tyler struggled for breath. The force of the water, combined with the creature''s strength, made it difficult to fight back effectively. He held on with every ounce of strength, knowing that releasing his grip would likely mean his death. The Lurker pulled him this way and that, spinning him wildly in the churning water.
The system panel appeared, momentarily clear amidst the chaos: Level 38.
Tyler activated his Rush skill, using the momentum of the spinning water to propel himself upwards. Holding onto the Lurker''s neck with a death grip, he planted his feet on the riverbed and unleashed all his strength and speed, launching himself clear of the water. His head broke the surface with a gasp for air, and he landed heavily on the riverbank, the Lurker falling several feet away.
He coughed, sputtering water, and dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. He looked at the creature: eel-like, with blue, shimmering scales, fins along its sides, and another fin-like appendage atop its head. Its teeth were sharp and silver, and its black eyes were set on the sides of its head. It began to thrash, moving like a fish scrambling for water.
Instantly, Tyler rose, materializing his hammer. With Rush still active, he moved with blurring speed. His hammer connected with the Lurker''s head, a devastating blow that crushed the skull. The creature flew back, striking a tree and falling lifelessly to the ground.
Water streamed from his hair and armor as Tyler breathed heavily, the hammer vanishing back into his inventory. He approached the dead Lurker, noting the bluish-black blood seeping from its wounds.
"That was close," Tyler muttered, looking down at the Lurker''s remains. He sighed and said, "Extract."
The Lurker''s blue scales shimmered and vanished, followed by the disappearance of its flesh and even its teeth. Only the bones remained. Tyler stared, surprised. "Wait, it took almost everything? Where''s the flesh?"
He opened his inventory. Several slots displayed: Lurker Meat , Lurker Scales with a number beside it, and Lurker Steel Fangs. He was astonished. "Those silver teeth were actually steel?" Relief washed over him as the system panel faded.
"Okay," he said, looking around, "I have to get back there."
Tyler, already on the other side of the river, walked back to the crossing point¡ªthe distance surprisingly short. He then took the path he and Grone had once traveled, the path where he''d harvested vital flowers and faced the Hexhorns. He walked onward, surprised by the lack of monsters.
I''m probably not seeing many monsters because of other hunters," he thought, but something feels off. Why didn''t I see any hunters the time I arrived here? That time when I was alone in the forest, I mean I met Grone, but¡ª"
His thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling sound approaching from his left. He turned, his hammer materializing in his hand.
Tyler gripped his hammer with both hands, taking a step back and waiting. A shriek, almost pig-like, pierced the air. "A Hexhorn", he thought.
The Hexhorn emerged from the bushes, its body clearly injured, several arrows protruding from its back. Tyler activated Kinetic Overload. His eyes shimmered blue for a fraction of a second before he unleashed a powerful blow with his hammer, striking the Hexhorn squarely in the nose. The impact shattered the creature''s skull, sending it sprawling through the air, landing upside down on its back. The arrows embedded in its back snapped. Its legs twitched once, then stilled.
Just as Tyler lowered his hammer, he heard a noise from the forest. A tall man with short blond hair, wearing leather armor and steel boots, stepped into view. A C -rank necklace hung around his neck.
"Damn it, kid," the man snarled, "you stole my kill!"
"Oh, I''m sorry," Tyler said quickly. "You can have all the materials. I was just surprised, that''s all, so I had to act."
The man eyed Tyler''s D-rank necklace and held his dagger. Tyler held his hammer firmly, bracing for an attack.
"Whoa, relax," the man said. "I''m taking the hide. Why would I suddenly want to fight you? Now step back and let me take my hide."
"Oh, I''m sorry," Tyler mumbled, lowering his guard and stepping back.
"Why aren''t you stepping back?" the man demanded. "Go all the way over there.
"In fact, get out of here. I''m not going to crouch down and extract the materials while a stranger is standing in front of me with a hammer, am I?"
"Oh, right, sorry," Tyler said. "I wasn''t planning on staying here anyway."
Tyler, still holding his hammer, walked away, his guard remaining high. Past experiences had taught him to be wary of other hunters; he''d been attacked before when he''d let his guard down. He walked carefully, listening intently for any sounds behind him. The faint sounds of a dagger slicing through hide slowly faded behind him.
As he walked, uncertainty gnawed at him. Grone had told him to keep going straight, but he wasn''t so sure anymore. He looked around. "I think I''ve gone far enough. I mean, from that point, I haven''t run into a single monster."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He decided to turn left. Spotting a tall tree, he thought, "Maybe I can see some monsters from up high and spot a Brolin. Now that I think about it, those people were looking for Brolins too, weren''t they? Maybe I should go to that place, the place where I saw the Shadow Walker... but that wasn''t really the place. It was the place where I got lost when I was trying to get away from that girl. I don''t even know where that place is."
He sighed. "Oh, man."
The silence was shattered by a rustling sound. Before Tyler could react, something round and hard slammed into his shoulder, a searing pain exploding through his body. He hit the forest floor hard. Pushing himself up, he saw it: a glistening copper sphere, armor-like and catching the sunlight.
The creature began to shift, transforming from its spherical form. The copper armor flowed, moving to its back and arms, like a turtle shedding its shell. But this was no turtle. Its head was broad and flat, seemingly neckless, with large, oval, white eyes.
It crouched, then rolled towards Tyler with astonishing speed. Tyler rolled to the right, narrowly avoiding the copper sphere. As it stopped, the creature transformed again, legs extending as it turned to face him. It crouched low, becoming a spinning wheel, its silver armor etched with intricate patterns. The design was strangely familiar, reminding Tyler of a creature from his past world.
The system panel appeared: Brolin: Level 45
Tyler summoned his hammer, just as another system message flashed: Brolin has activated skill: Bash
The Brolin launched itself from the ground, much like the slimes he''d encountered before.
"They have the same skill," Tyler thought, a grim realization dawning as he dodged the Brolin''s attack. The copper sphere whizzed past, missing him by a hair''s breadth. He gripped his hammer, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. "We have the same skill," he declared, his voice echoing in the sudden hush of the forest, "let''s see if mine is better." He activated Kinetic Overload, his eyes blazing with a brief, intense blue light.
The Brolin launched itself, a blur of spinning copper. With a guttural roar, Tyler channeled every ounce of his strength into a devastating blow. His hammer slammed into the Brolin''s shell, the impact generating a shockwave that rippled through the air. The hammerhead shattered, exploding into fragments, leaving only the haft in his hand. The force of the blow sent the Brolin hurtling through the trees; it smashed into one ancient trunk, splitting it cleanly in two, before crashing into another with a deafening thud.
Disappointment pricked at Tyler, a fleeting moment before he focused on the fallen creature. He ran towards the Brolin, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The copper shell was cracked and dented, the Brolin''s body still, its red blood trickling onto the forest floor. Relief washed over him in a tidal wave, erasing the adrenaline-fueled tension.
"I don''t have a weapon now, he thought, the reality of his situation settling in. It seems I''m going to have to get back."
"Oh, yeah, right. I remember Brolin blood being an ingredient for my alchemy skill. Was it 100 milliliters? I forgot." Tyler mused. "Right, now how do I get this?" He reached into his inventory and pulled out a small glass vial, considering how to obtain the Brolin''s blood.
He noticed a small puncture in the Brolin''s underbelly, a piece of its own armor having pierced the flesh. Carefully, he pried the armor fragment away, positioning the vial over the wound.
"Man, he thought, a wry smile touching his lips, if anyone told me to do this back in my own world, I''d say they were crazy. But here I am, taking some weird creature''s blood to make a potion." He paused, a sudden wave of self-doubt washing over him. "Wait, am I going to drink this? I hope I don''t have to drink this one, because that would be weird. I don''t even know what''s going to happen if I drink it. My defense will probably rise, but I don''t think I''m going to like the taste, and I hope there are no side effects. I think the side effects of that health potion was increased virility which is good, I guess. Anyway, I have to stop thinking too hard. The vial is about to fill up."
He removed the vial; it was full. "This vial fits about 500 milliliters of water," he thought." Yeah, this is way more than I need, which is good." The vial vanished back into his inventory.
Tyler looked down at the Brolin''s remains and issued the command, "Extract." The system''s response appeared instantly: Vial is too full for Brolin blood extraction. Continue with hide extraction?
A surprised expression crossed Tyler''s face. He had assumed he would need to manually collect the blood, but it seemed the system would have automatically filled the vial while it was still in his inventory. He confirmed his choice with a curt, "Yes, continue with extraction."
The Brolin''s distinctive copper armor shimmered, then dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the creature''s lifeless form.
He began his trek back towards the base, a cautiousness settling over him. The absence of his hammer weighed heavily on his mind. *I don''t want to encounter any monsters without a weapon,* he thought, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach. *I could probably handle lower-level creatures with my fists, but I don''t want to risk it.*
With a decisive movement, he activated his Rush skill. The world transformed into a vibrant blur of greens and browns. Trees flashed past like streaks of paint, the speed disorienting yet exhilarating. The sensation was intense; it was as if he were riding a powerful, unseen current. He was both surprised and impressed by the sheer velocity. "Whoa,"he thought, "I can actually run this fast? I probably didn''t notice before because I was always focused on fighting."
In what felt like only moments, he reached the riverbank. He focused his intent, pushing his speed to its limit, and launched himself into a powerful leap. The river receded beneath him, the ground rushing up to meet him in a dizzying display of speed and height. He landed with a controlled grace on the far bank, his breath catching in his throat. He turned to look back at the river, a mixture of awe and exhilaration in his eyes.
"Wow!" he breathed, a genuine expression of wonder on his face. "I didn''t realize I could jump this high either. This leveling up really does pay off." He resumed his run, his pace unwavering.
Tyler, focused on his escape, didn''t notice the person he''d just passed; a thick bush obscured their view of each other until after Tyler had leaped the river. Rebecca, on the other side, watched in astonishment as Tyler cleared the wide river in a single bound, a feat she knew even experienced E-rank hunters struggled with. She watched him run, his form quickly disappearing into the distance.
She activated her Perception skill, her vision zooming in on Tyler as he ran. Recognition dawned, widening her eyes. "It''s him," she thought, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. *Damn it. I thought he couldn''t visit me at the restaurant because he left from here. Did he just decide not to? What a freaking asshole," she muttered under her breath. She turned to continue on her own path, a bitter taste in her mouth. "I can''t even catch up to him at this point. I''m a C-rank hunter now, but somehow... it feels like he''s still faster than me. Is it because he''s an Assassin-type hunter?" she wondered. "Anyways, I don''t think he''d agree even if I tried to talk to him about what I wanted. We got off on the wrong foot."
She continued her journey through the forest, her thoughts preoccupied with Tyler.
Meanwhile, Tyler''s Rush skill wore off, his pace slowing considerably. However, he had already reached the Crossroads base, the familiar sight of tents and bustling hunters greeting him. He entered the base, his eyes scanning the crowd. He spotted Steve amidst the moving throng. Steve caught his eye, quickly looked away, and continued on his path.
Tyler paused, a question forming in his mind. "What''s up with him?"
"Is he actually scared of me? I didn''t think anyone would perceive me this way. But, well, I guess it happened," Tyler mused, continuing his walk towards the tent.
He reached the tent and saw Serena inside. "Oh, Serena, good morning," he greeted her.
Serena looked up, a surprised expression on her face. "Oh, it''s you. I forgot your name. What was it again?"
"Tyler," he replied.
"Oh, right," Serena said, her gaze lingering on Tyler''s armor. "So, you''re a hunter now? And you''re even a D-rank hunter?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
"Did you work in the fields before you got here?" she asked.
"The fields? Oh, no," Tyler replied. "I didn''t work anywhere before becoming a hunter. I just trained with Grone."
"Oh, that might explain it," Serena said. "But to think you''re already a D-rank hunter.... Anyways, what brings you here? You want to take on a quest?"
"Oh, no," Tyler said. "There was someone here¡ªI forgot his name¡ªI took on a quest and I''m back with the materials."
"Oh, you mean Nathan? If you took on a quest, it should be around here," Serena said, ducking under the counter. The sounds of rustling papers followed. She emerged, holding a flyer. "Oh, I found it! And your name is written here; it seems you signed it. So, do you want¡ª" She paused, then continued, "Oh, so if you just give me the materials, I''ll give you the quest reward."
Tyler looked around the bustling tent, observing the exchange of materials and gold. Hunters, some D-rank and E-rank, were dropping off hides and plants at the counter, receiving payment in return.
"I''m sorry, but can you give me the¡" Serena began, but Tyler interrupted.
"Oh, okay, I''m sorry. I''ll just¡ Um, can you give me a sack?"
"Uh, a sack?" Serena questioned.
"Yeah," Tyler replied. "I''ll give it back. Don''t you have sacks under the counter? Nathan used to give them out."
Serena ducked under the counter and emerged with a sack. "Okay, but what are you going to do with it?" she asked, handing it to him.
Tyler paused. He looked into the empty sack. To Serena''s astonishment, the sack visibly inflated, filling with something that caused it to bulge oddly.
"Oh," Serena said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I think I know your ability. It actually surprised me the first time I saw it."
"Yeah," Tyler said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I was trying to hide it." He handed the sack back to her.
Serena took the sack and saw the Brolin''s armor neatly contained within. "Oh, ah, thank you," she said, handing him two gold coins.
The gold vanished into Tyler''s inventory. "Thanks," he said. "I''ll see you again. I have to go to town."
"Ah," Serena said, "you must be tired. You''ve been hunting all night, haven''t you?"
Tyler looked back at Serena. "Oh, no," he said, "I haven''t been hunting all night. I have been hunting, but I''m not tired at all. I just need to go to town to do something first. I might even come back here today. Anyways, see you later," he said, waving as he headed around the tent.
"Okay, I''ll see you then, Tyler," Serena called after him.
Tyler rounded the tent, only to find no wagon waiting. "Oh, man," he muttered, "I''m going to have to wait for one of those, aren''t I?"
He sat down, his thoughts drifting to Emily. "Are they feeding her in that dungeon? I hope they are," he worried. "Man, to think I''m going to save some kind of thief¡ I don''t even know her, and that''s what''s crazy. Should I just use up all this money, or should I save it?" He shook his head, a wave of self-doubt washing over him. "What the heck is wrong with me? Why would I even think that? She''s going to get whipped and violated. I have to save her. But I can''t believe I said I was going to¡ like¡ provide for her or something. I just said yes without even thinking. What the hell is wrong with me? I don''t even know how to get her a job."
Then, a thought struck him, a spark of determination igniting within him. "Wait, I think I can actually get her a job."
As if summoned by his resolve, a wagon appeared in the distance, the rhythmic clip-clop of horses'' hooves growing steadily louder.
The rhythmic clopping of hooves grew louder as the wagon approached. "Man," Tyler thought, the sound of these horses is so disorienting. I don''t think I could even mimic it. I mean, these horses have six legs each, and people think it''s normal? Does that mean they already had six legs before the story about the demon king and all that?"
The wagon drew closer, and Tyler''s surprise was palpable as Grone emerged from the back.
"Oh, Tyler," Grone said, a warm smile on his face. "How have you been?"
"Grone!" Tyler exclaimed. "You''re here. Man, it feels like it''s been a long time since I''ve seen you, but I just got here yesterday."
Grone chuckled, lightly hitting Tyler on the back. "That''s what hunting feels like," he said. His smile faltered, however, as his gaze fell upon Tyler''s necklace. "Whoa, wait a moment," he said, his voice laced with surprise. "Are you already a D-rank hunter?"
Tyler scratched the back of his head. "Yes," he confirmed. "I actually got my hunter assessment today. I just completed a D-rank quest."
As soon as the words left his lips, a system panel materialized before him:
Quest Reward:
+2 stat points to each stat.
Armor Recipe:4 Hexhorn Hides ¡ú Hexhorn Armor
Weapon Recipe: Adas Branch, Iron Ores, Elin Feather ¡ú Arrows (number depends on materials)
Accessory Recipe: User''s Blood, 1 Small Copper Ore, 3 Vital Flowers ¡ú Vital Ring
Alchemy Recipe: Crimson Wolf Fur, 300ml Water, 3 Sunleaf Leafs ¡ú Weak Agility Potion
Tyler dismissed the system panel almost as quickly as it appeared.
"Kid," Grone said, shaking his head in disbelief, "I don''t know what to say. You might be the fastest leveling hunter I''ve ever met. I mean, I am speechless."
"In a way, I kind of am too," Tyler admitted. "I didn''t think I would actually become a D-rank hunter after my first quest."
Grone asked, "What was your first quest?"
Tyler replied, "Oh, i had to go get a Brunish tree, but I ran into some monsters and kept fighting. Oh, and you forgot to tell me something."
"What?" Grone asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"You didn''t tell me anything about boss monsters," Tyler stated.
Grone''s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, you actually fought a boss monster?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "I almost died, but luckily I survived. I didn''t fight that thing alone, fortunately."
"Oh," Grone said, shaking his head. "I don''t know how I forgot to tell you that important piece of information. I didn''t think you would actually run into it. How far did you go into the forest?"
"I wanted to go to where I first met the Shadow Walkers," Tyler replied.
"I think I eventually went too far," Tyler said, "because when I spawned into this world, I was very far from the base. Maybe that''s why I couldn''t see anyone."
"What kind of boss monster did you fight?" Grone asked.
"It was a Shadow Walker," Tyler replied.
"A Shadow Walker?" Grone exclaimed. "Those things are known to be extremely fast. Fighting a Shadow Walker at night is practically a suicide mission. You said you fought it with someone, right? And you managed to defeat it, seeing as how you''re alive? Or did you just get away?"
"No," Tyler said, a smile spreading across his face. "I was able to beat it, and I took the spoils. I actually have the hide and claws in my inventory right now."
"You''re very lucky," Grone said, his eyes wide. "Do you know how much those things cost?"
"Yeah," Tyler said. "When I took my hunter assessment, they told me how much it was worth. And I don''t think I''m planning on selling it right now."
Grone frowned. "Why?"
"I''m planning on making armor with it," Tyler explained. "Maybe I can get some of its skills, or maybe I''ll just sell it later. Who knows?"
Grone sighed. "Hmm, when I get back, I want you to show me this ability of yours¡ªyou know, the one where you get a creature''s skills when you craft armor from it. So, when I come back, we''re going to go to where you trained that time, and I want you to show it to me. Understand?" Grone said, placing a hand on Tyler''s shoulder.
Tyler nodded.
"Alright," Grone said. "I''m going to take on some quests."
"I''ll see you later today. You can go ahead and rest," Grone said.
"All right, take care of yourself," Tyler replied.
Tyler climbed onto the wagon. The driver looked at him and asked, "Where are you headed?"
"Oh, I''m going to town," Tyler answered.
"You know how much that is worth, right?" the driver asked, indicating the fare.
"Right," Tyler said, handing over the coins.
The wagon started moving. Tyler leaned back, closing his eyes. Maybe I could use a little rest before we get to town," he thought.
Meanwhile, in her cell, Emily sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked up at the ceiling, a mixture of hope and apprehension in her eyes. "Is that sir really going to come for me?" she wondered. "I tried to find a way to escape, but it seems I have to rely on him now¡ to rely on someone who doesn''t even know me."
Chapter 42: A Promise In Gold
Tyler, eyes closed, felt the wagon¡¯s rhythmic rumble along the main road. Suddenly, the sound of a system panel appearing sliced through the noise. He opened his eyes to see the panel displaying: User has Managed to achieve one of the objectives: Slaughter 50 Monsters. User will be rewarded according to the objective''s difficulty. Rewards:
A small, faintly glowing object materialized before Tyler¡¯s chest, floating in the air. He opened his palm, and it slowly descended, settling into his hand. The system read: Enhancement Stone. When Mana is applied to it while in proximity to a crafted item, the item will have double the effect. However, this will only work on Accessories, Weapons, and Armor.
Tyler read the message, astonishment evident in his expression. He looked at the small, blue crystal in his hand; the faint glow had faded. *Wow, this reward feels worth it. If I use this on any item, it will double the effect. I¡¯ll see how I¡¯ll use it once I get to town,* he thought.
The wagon arrived at the entrance to Veridia. The grey brick walls, even after repeated viewings, still seemed impossibly wide. As the wagon slowed, he noticed, for the first time, two guards standing near the entrance. The wagon stopped in its usual spot, amongst other wagons a short distance from the gate. Tyler dismounted and addressed the driver. "Hey, um, do you have any change? I want to exchange this gold coin for ten silver." The driver looked at him and said, "Of course. Give me the gold, and I''ll exchange it for the silver."
Tyler gave the man the gold coin and received ten silver coins in return. He pocketed the silver and headed towards Hector¡¯s shop.
The marketplace held a smaller-than-usual crowd. Tyler navigated through it, passing the mineral shop he planned to visit later. He reached Hector¡¯s shop; the familiar hammer and anvil sign still hung above the entrance. He saw Hector through the open doorway. Tyler stepped inside and said, "Hey,"
Hector, who had been looking down while seated behind the counter, looked up. "Oh, you¡¯re back. How was the hunt?" he asked.
"It was¡ okay," Tyler replied. "I almost got killed twice, but everything turned out great, I guess."
Hector stood, his gaze immediately drawn to Tyler¡¯s necklace. "Your D-rank?" he said, surprised.
"Yeah, I got assessed today, and that¡¯s when I found out I¡¯d leveled up enough," Tyler said.
"Did Grone take it this far?" Hector said, touching his chin thoughtfully, considering Tyler¡¯s training.
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.
"Well," Hector said, "I¡¯m just thinking¡ Grone said he trained you so you could level up. Did he really train you that much for you to actually be a D-rank so fast? It¡¯s a miracle you didn¡¯t die at this point."
"Oh, no, no," Tyler said. "I actually became a D-rank from killing monsters. I was about level 30 yesterday, and now I¡¯m level 40."
Hector lowered his hand from his chin. "What? You leveled up ten times on your own from killing monsters in one day?"
"Yeah, I was hunting in the middle of the night and then I ran into a¡ª" Tyler¡¯s sentence was cut short by the arrival of another person, who entered Hector¡¯s shop. This individual also wore a D-rank necklace. He was a young man with short black hair, clad in full leather armor.
"Oh, Hector, do you have any more dual axes? I lost mine in the middle of a hunt," the young man said.
Hector replied, "Oh, not even a greeting? Anyways, yeah, I have some axes right now. Do you want to buy them?"
"Yes, of course," the man said. He then turned to Tyler as Hector disappeared into the back room to retrieve the axes.
"Oh hey, so you said you lost your weapons?" Tyler asked.
The young man looked away, pointedly ignoring him. Hector returned, carrying two silver axes. He placed them on the counter. "Well, you know the price."
The man opened a small bag he carried and produced 6 gold coins.
He placed the gold coins in Hector¡¯s hands. Hector accepted the payment, and the young man said, "Good, then I''ll be going now," before leaving the shop. Tyler watched him go; the young man briefly glanced at Tyler before resuming his walk.
"So, I¡¯m guessing only one of your hand axes cost three gold?" Tyler said.
"Yes," Hector replied, "that¡¯s why he gave me six gold to take both. Oh, and about your daggers, I recently sold them to an E-Rank hunter yesterday." Hector reached under the counter and produced six silver coins and five copper coins, handing them to Tyler.
"Wow, so I¡¯m guessing you already took your 35%, huh?" Tyler said, taking the money.
"Yes," Hector confirmed, "three silver and five copper. It¡¯s actually amazing how it happened. Because, I think, probably an hour after you left, an E-Rank hunter got in here and saw the daggers on the wall and immediately pointed to them. As I told you earlier, those daggers really look appealing. I told you they weren¡¯t very strong, but with how they look, people would want to buy them. It¡¯s like the perfect scam."
Tyler scratched his head and laughed nervously. "It¡¯s not really a scam, though. Anyways, I really appreciate you selling them for me. I mean, I know you¡¯re getting something out of it, but really, thank you, Hector, for letting me do this."
"Oh, kid, don¡¯t worry about it," Hector said.
Tyler then looked at Hector with a serious expression. "I want to discuss something."
"Discuss what?" Hector asked.
"Okay, I''m going to start with a question," Tyler said. "Are you willing to hire someone?"
"Um, no. I''m not hiring anyone right now," Hector replied.
"But what if I bought a person for you to hire? Could you hire them then?" Tyler asked.
"What are you getting at?" Hector said, puzzled.
"No, it''s just that¡ well, think about it," Tyler explained. "I craft weapons, and you sell them for me, taking 35% of the profit. What if I got you someone to sell the weapons and clean the store? You wouldn''t have much work. They could clean and stay at the counter all day, selling the weapons and armor. You could be in the back crafting, giving you more time to make the best weapons. Wouldn''t that be an advantage?"
Hector considered this. "That would be good, but what gave you this idea?"
"Well, it''s a long story," Tyler said. "I already have someone in mind who could help you¡ªus."
"Who is that person?" Hector asked.
"It''s this other girl I''ve met," Tyler said. "She''s in trouble right now, and I want to help her. I promised her I''d get her a job."
Hector looked at Tyler thoughtfully. "Oh, is she your love partner? You want to help your girlfriend out?"
"Oh, no, no," Tyler said quickly. "She''s not really¡ I don''t really know her like that."
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
"If you bring this person back with you, I''ll consider it," Hector said. "I need to see them first before I let them work here."
"Alright, thank you," Tyler said.
"Don''t thank me yet," Hector cautioned. "Remember, I said I need to see them first. I might even decline upon seeing them."
"Oh, alright. I''ll bring them straight here," Tyler said, heading for the door. "Alright, I''ll be back."
Tyler started walking home. He walked down the street and arrived. He knocked on the door and heard, "Come in,"¡ªLisa''s voice. He entered and saw her leaving the kitchen, heading towards her room.
"Good morning," Tyler said.
"Good morning," Lisa replied. "You''re already back? How was your first quest as a hunter?"
"It was alright," Tyler said. "I actually became a D-rank hunter."
Lisa''s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, you became a D-rank hunter? That fast?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, touching the pendant of his necklace. "As you can see."
Lisa looked at it. "Yeah, you''re really not joking. You are a D-rank hunter. That is incredible. What did my husband do to you?"
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.
Lisa''s face tightened with anger. "Did he really put you through that much hardcore training? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I''m totally fine," Tyler reassured her.
"Aside from that," Lisa said, "where did you get that armor?"
"Oh, this? I crafted it myself," Tyler said, his voice a little defensive, gesturing to his armor.
Lisa''s eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean?"
"It''s one of my skills," Tyler explained, his tone serious. "To tell you the truth, I''m actually kind of a craftsman."
Lisa frowned, clearly confused. "What? But I thought you said you couldn''t help Hector that time? And how can a hunter be a craftsman?"
Tyler shifted his weight, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "It''s complicated," he admitted. "I can use weapons, I know how to fight, and I can also craft weapons¡ªand much more than that."
Lisa''s concern was evident. She sighed. "Just don''t push yourself too hard, okay? It''s pretty unique to be able to be a hunter and a craftsman at the same time. This is the first I''ve heard of it, so please, if you''ve hit your limit, don''t try to push yourself further, alright?" She looked directly at him. Tyler nodded, understanding the seriousness in her tone. He sensed the weight of her words, feeling they came from experience. "Alright, I won''t," he replied, his voice firm.
"Did you meet James at the base?" Lisa asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah, I met him while I was departing," Tyler said. "He''s probably coming a bit earlier today because he wants me to show him something."
"Oh, alright," Lisa said. "I already prepared some food. You can have some; it''s in the pot."
"Oh, about that, I have something too," Tyler said. "Do you guys eat Luckers?"
Lisa smiled. "Yes, of course! Well, that''s one of my favorites. Did you happen to buy any?"
"Yeah, well¡ hold on a minute," Tyler said, going to the table.
Tyler stood before the table, a small, hesitant smile on his face. "I don''t really know how small or big it is, but¡ª" Before he could finish, a shimmering distortion appeared on the tabletop. Then, as if materialized from thin air, a quantity of neatly arranged, sliced, and chopped meat sat there. Tyler himself looked surprised by its appearance.
"Wait, is that what I think it is?" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?"
"It''s one of my abilities," Tyler explained, his voice still slightly awed. "I recently fought a Lurker and took its meat. I thought I could bring it with me, and here it is."
Lisa, without a word, suddenly hugged him tightly, her gratitude evident. Tyler, flustered by the unexpected embrace, gently pulled away.
"Oh, I''m sorry," Lisa said, pulling back slightly, a blush rising on her cheeks. "I''m just so happy. I didn''t think you could actually bring Lurker meat here. I mean, the meat is rare enough, but this thing tastes really good. I''m already thinking of cooking it right now. Thanks a lot."
Tyler scratched his cheek, a blush mirroring Lisa''s. "Oh, it''s fine," he mumbled, his embarrassment clear. "I was just coming to drop this off. I''m going to have to go again."
"Oh, you''re already going hunting?" Lisa asked, a slight frown creasing her brow. "I thought you said James was going to return earlier today so you could do something with him. You said you wanted to show him something."
"Oh, no," Tyler said, "I have to go take someone¡ª" His stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Lisa chuckled. "You''re obviously hungry. I already told you that there''s some food left in the pot. You can have some."
"Yeah, right," Tyler agreed. "I really should eat, huh?"
Tyler went to the kitchen and served himself some food. Lisa took some of the Lurker meat, wrapping it neatly in a piece of parchment. To Tyler''s astonishment, as he sat at the table eating, she extended a hand towards the wrapped meat. Her hand glowed with a faint bluish light before the glow subsided.
Tyler nearly choked on his food, slapping his chest in surprise. "Oh goodness, are you alright?" Lisa asked, concern etched on her face.
"No, I''m okay," Tyler managed, swallowing the food still in his mouth. "I was just surprised, that''s all. What did you do just now?"
"Oh, this is preservation magic," Lisa explained, a hint of pride in her voice. "It''s a skill that¡ well, that all mages have, actually."
"What?" Tyler exclaimed, his eyes widening.
"Yeah, I''m sort of a mage," Lisa admitted, a playful smile touching her lips. "Oh, not really. I am a mage, but I''m not a hunter. It''s a long story. All I can say is, it''s preservation magic. It prevents things from decaying, making food and weapons last longer."
Tyler nodded slowly, absorbing this new information. *I probably shouldn''t ask her about being a mage-hunter,* he thought. *Seems like she doesn''t want to talk about it.*
He stood up. "I''m done eating. I''m gonna have to go now. If I wait too long, something bad might happen."
"What do you mean?" Lisa asked, her brow furrowed with worry. "Where are you going exactly?"
Tyler looked at her, a serious expression replacing his earlier embarrassment. "Oh, it''s just somewhere. I don''t think I can tell you right now. I''ll tell you about it later."
Lisa nodded, accepting his explanation. She took the preserved meat into the kitchen, leaving Tyler to head for the door.
Tyler exited the house and started walking towards the dungeon. After a while, he stopped, a frown creasing his brow. "Wait, is this the way again?" he muttered to himself. "That guy¡ he took us in this direction, right?"
He looked around. The streets were a confusing maze of houses and narrow alleys. He walked a little further, then stopped short, his eyes widening in recognition. A man in silver armor, a silver sword strapped to his hip, stood a short distance away.
Tyler approached him. "Excuse me," he said.
The man turned, and Tyler''s surprise was evident. It was the man who had wanted to form a new guild.
"Oh, hi," Tyler said, a little awkwardly.
"Oh, it''s you," the man replied. "Right, have you decided yet?"
"Oh, I''m not¡ I mean, I''m not really¡ um¡ I didn''t really come here for that," Tyler stammered. "I just wanted directions, that''s all."
The man sighed. "Where are you trying to go?"
"Oh, I''m trying to head over to the dungeon," Tyler explained, "but I feel like I''m close, but I don''t really know which direction it is. At this point, I might end up going to the guild hall instead."
The man''s eyes widened as he noticed Tyler''s D-rank necklace. "Wait, you''re D-rank?"
"Yeah, I am," Tyler confirmed.
"Oh, then how did that happen?" the man asked, clearly surprised. "You were just an E-rank recently, weren''t you?"
"Oh, I leveled up," Tyler said, a little impatiently. "Just like anyone would. Anyways, the directions?"
"Stop trying to change the subject," the man said, his tone sharper now. "You said you were starting to become a hunter that time, but you''re already D-rank?"
"Yeah, I mean, if you think about it, it happens," Tyler said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I probably went there when I was like level 38, and then when I hit level 40, I became a D-rank. I mean, it shouldn''t be that surprising, right?"
The man considered this. "If you put it that way, I guess it is possible," he conceded. "I mean, it''s not the first time it''s happened, just that it''s rare, especially for someone who stays in Veridia."
"Oh, anyways, what about the directions?" Tyler prompted, growing impatient.
"Are you really not going to join my guild?" the man asked, a hint of pleading in his voice. "I mean, it could turn out great. I''m already a C-rank, I mean¡ª"
Tyler interrupted him. "Oh man, I guess I have to ask somebody else for directions because I really can''t waste time here. I have to help someone where I''m going."
The man sighed. "Okay, alright."
"You know what," Tyler said, "I''ll think about joining your guild when you''ve reached A-rank. Just like Grone said."
The man seemed deflated but nodded. "Alright. Just go straight, then turn left, and go straight again. You''ll see a sharp turn; turn left and go straight again."
"Oh, alright," Tyler said. "Thank you." He started walking away.
"Oh, if you can, please meet me at the guild in two weeks'' time," the man called after him.
Tyler paused, a thoughtful frown on his face. *Wait a damn minute. I don''t even know what day it is.* He turned back. "Alright, I''ll do that!" he shouted, then resumed his walk towards the dungeon.
Tyler followed the directions, his mind drifting to the silver-armored man. *What was his name, anyway?* he wondered, realizing he hadn''t learned it. He finally reached the dungeon, a grim, imposing structure. Several guards were lounging on a nearby rock, chatting amongst themselves. Two guards in silver armor, spears held at the ready, stood sentinel at the entrance.
"Good after noon," Tyler said to the guard he recognized.
"Oh, it''s you," the guard replied. "You''ve come back this early. I thought you''d be back later. Did you bring the payment?"
"Yes, I brought the payment," Tyler confirmed. "You said it''s seven gold, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, seven gold," the guard said. "You should be able to free her with that."
"Yeah, right. Okay," Tyler said. "Let''s go inside."
As they entered, Tyler noticed the other guard glaring at him, a look of intense anger in his eyes. He followed the guard deeper into the dungeon, the air growing heavy with the stench of mildew and despair. They reached Emily''s cell. The cell still reeked, and Emily was slumped on the floor, her head in her hands. She looked up as they approached, rising to her feet.
Tyler turned to the guard. "Nothing happened to her, right?"
"Yeah, I kept an eye on her. Nothing happened," the guard assured him.
Tyler nodded, then reached into his pocket. Unseen by the guard, seven gold coins shimmered into existence before he withdrew them.
"Okay, here," Tyler said, handing the seven gold coins to the guard.
"Good," the guard said, taking the money. "I can release her now." He unclipped a ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the cell. Emily stepped out, looking dazed but relieved. Tyler smiled at her. "You''re free now."
Before Emily could respond, a figure emerged from the corridor, his voice cutting through the air. "Man, I can''t believe it. Someone actually came to pay for her crimes." He approached Tyler, his expression turning unpleasant. "You''re literally buying her off our hands. Why won''t you let us have a little fun before you take her? What do you¡ª"
Tyler''s smile vanished, replaced by a cold fury. "You have to be joking," he said, his voice dangerously low.
The man smirked. "Oh, come on. I''ll pay two gold. I''m pretty sure she''s not worth that much, right?" He leered at Emily.
"Shut up," Tyler spat, his disgust evident. "You''re freaking disgusting." He bumped the guard''s shoulder as he took Emily''s hand, pulling her away from the cell.
The guard, enraged, roared, "What the fuck did you just say to me?!" He started to draw his sword, but the other guard intervened, grabbing his arm.
"What the hell are you trying to do inside the dungeons? You wanna get in trouble?" the second guard hissed.
The first guard shoved him away. "Fuck off!" he yelled.
The guard sheathed his sword, muttering, "You''re so freaking lucky that newbie''s here; otherwise, I would have cut your head off." Tyler glared at him over his shoulder before continuing, pulling Emily along. Emily''s eyes were wide, her nervousness palpable as she walked beside him, her steps hesitant.
Emerging from the dungeon, the sunlight momentarily blinded her. The fresh air, a stark contrast to the stale, foul-smelling dungeon, was a welcome relief. As they walked, tears welled up in Emily''s eyes. Instinctively, she squeezed Tyler''s hand tighter, surprising him. He looked down at her.
She looked up at him, her voice choked with emotion. "Sir, thank you."
Tyler, flustered, offered a hesitant smile. "Oh, um, uh, don''t¡ don''t cry. I was just helping out, that''s all." He gently released her hand. "Okay, you need to follow me. I need to show you something."
"Alright," she whispered, starting to walk beside him. Tyler glanced at her as they walked. Her brown cloak was worn and tattered, her dark hair falling across her forehead, obscuring most of her face.
"Hey, Emily," Tyler said, "where are you from?"
She looked up at him, her voice barely a breath. "Oh, I''m from Lyria."
Meanwhile Bernardo sat at a table in the guild hall, two twin hunters¡ªbrothers, he knew¡ªacross from him. He was trying to negotiate a deal, and it wasn''t going well.
One brother smirked. "I can''t believe you actually came here without money, just to consider this stupid deal."
His brother chuckled. "Am I right? This idiot thinks we''ll actually go along with this."
Bernardo leaned forward, his voice earnest. "Please, listen to me. If we get this person''s gear, I promise I''ll pay you back. It''s worth it, I need your help. This person''s gear and weapons have to be worth a lot." He paused, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. *I don''t really know what kind of weapons he has,* he thought, *but I''m guessing they''re probably high quality.*
The twins exchanged a look, then burst out laughing. "Do you really think we''re going to work with you to pay the dept you owe then get paid back? What kind of stupid logic is that?" one of them said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Anyways, you do know tomorrow''s the day, right? If you don''t bring the money, you''re dead."
Chapter 43: A New Beginning
The midday sun, fractured into a thousand shimmering shards by the dense canopy, barely pierced the gloom of the forest. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, held the tension of Rebecca''s desperate flight. Her breath came in short, controlled gasps as she ran, the rough bark of trees a fleeting touch against her arms. Behind her, the relentless pursuit of the Gloomfang dogs echoed through the trees ¨C a chilling symphony of snarls and snapping jaws.
One, a monstrous canine silhouette of rippling blue fur and razor-sharp teeth, launched itself from the pack, its Rush skill a blur of motion. But Rebecca was ready. With the practiced fluidity of a seasoned hunter, she spun, her body a coiled spring releasing its deadly energy. Her bow, a familiar extension of her will, sang as she loosed a Wind Arrow. The arrow, a shaft of polished wood imbued with potent wind magic, screamed through the air, a living thing of emerald light and howling wind. It struck the charging Gloomfang with the force of a battering ram, the impact a sickening crunch of bone and the eruption of a geyser of blue-tinged blood. The creature¡¯s head, severed clean, sailed through the air before landing with a soft thud in the undergrowth.
Four more Gloomfangs, their eyes burning with predatory hunger, pressed their relentless pursuit. Their blue fur gleamed in the dappled light. Rebecca''s heart pounded a steady rhythm against her ribs, a controlled beat against the encroaching threat. She was fast, agile, but out numbered.
She vaulted a fallen log, landing lightly on the other side. As she landed, she launched herself upward, twisting in the air. With a controlled breath, she drew her bow, her movements fluid and precise. The Wind Burst arrow, a single shaft tipped with the concentrated essence of a raging storm, left the bowstring with a sharp *twang*. It arced through the air, then exploded on impact with the ground between her and the pursuing Gloomfangs, creating a devastating gust of wind that sent the creatures sprawling. The force of the blast also caught Rebecca, throwing her backward. She skidded across the ground, leaving a small furrow in the soft earth before coming to a controlled stop, the impact jarring but not debilitating. A small crater, testament to the arrow''s power, marked the spot where the wind magic had erupted.
Rebecca quickly moved to the edge of the small crater. She nocked an arrow, her movements economical and precise. The first downed Gloomfang received a swift, clean shot through the heart. Another arrow found its mark in the second creature''s chest. A third arrow finished off the third, its body twitching once before stilling.
The fourth Gloomfang, its eyes blazing with fury, began to rise. Rebecca, anticipating its move, nocked two more arrows. As the creature launched itself at her, its Rush skill activating, Rebecca loosed the first arrow. The Gloomfang, with surprising agility, leaped to the right, narrowly avoiding the shot. But the second arrow, fired with deadly precision, found its mark¡ªa direct hit to the eye. The Gloomfang collapsed instantly, its life extinguished with brutal efficiency.
Rebecca let out a long, slow breath, the tension finally leaving her body. She placed her bow across her back, drawing a dagger from its sheath. "Finally," she murmured, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "I can take these hides. I guess it''s true that when you become a C-rank in this monster zone, things tend to get easier. I thought level 40 Gloomfangs would be much faster than this. Then again, there was only one level 40 or higher among them, I guess." She knelt, examining one of the fallen creatures. She ran a hand along its ear, then checked the length of its tail. "Yep, this one definitely isn''t above level 40 yet. I guess the first one I killed was above level 40."
She began to carefully cut the hide from the Gloomfang, her movements practiced and efficient. "I never even got to try out my ultimate skill," she mused. "Guess I''ll have to go accept quests from Veridia now."
Meanwhile, Tyler and Emily walked toward Hector''s shop. Emily, her curiosity piqued, finally asked, "I''m sorry to ask, sir, but how did you come to know my name?"
Tyler smiled. "Oh, right. It''s because of a skill I have."
"A skill?" Emily''s eyes widened.
"Yes," Tyler confirmed. "I have the Uncover skill. But it''s kind of complicated," he added with a shrug.
Emily''s eyes widened further. "Wow, you have an Uncover skill? That''s a rare skill," she murmured, impressed.
"Yes, it lets me see people''s names and levels," Tyler explained. "That''s how I knew your name. I learned it the first time we met¡ªdo you remember that day?"
Emily''s cheeks flushed crimson. She quickly knelt, bowing her head in the street. A few passersby stopped to watch the scene.
"Oh, what are you doing?" Tyler asked, surprised by her sudden action.
"I''m sorry," Emily mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I want to express my gratitude for freeing me from prison, but I don''t have anything to give you right now. So the only thing I can think of is kneeling. Or maybe, perhaps¡"
"Perhaps what?" Tyler asked, gently interrupting her. "Come on, get up quickly." He took her hand, lifting her to her feet. "The first time we met, I came off as a despicable person, and for that, I''m sorry," she said, bowing her head again.
Tyler gently but firmly grasped her shoulders, lifting, straightening her and she met his gaze. "You have to stop that," he said, his voice firm but kind.
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Tyler noticed a deep scar on Emily''s forehead, almost like a jagged cut, though it appeared old. Emily, sensing his gaze, quickly lowered her head, using her hood to obscure the mark and letting her hair fall into place.
"What happened?" Tyler asked gently.
Emily hesitated, then said, "It''s a long story. I can''t tell you now. I''m sorry."
"Nah, it''s alright," Tyler reassured her. "You don''t have to apologize for that." He smiled reassuringly. "Let''s keep going; we''re close."
They continued walking, Emily now walking beside him. Tyler found himself thinking, *Who would have thought a girl who goes around stealing stuff has such a shy attitude? I thought she''d have more of a rascal attitude.*
As they entered the marketplace, Emily became even more self-conscious, covering her face more and lowering her eyes. *Oh man,* Tyler thought, *she probably stole from these people too.* *I want to ask her why she was stealing, but since she said she''s an orphan, it''s kind of obvious.* *She just told me she''s from Lyria, but I didn''t ask her anything further. I need to know her more.*
They arrived at Hector''s shop. Tyler opened the door and stepped inside, expecting Emily to follow. But when he looked back, she was gone.
"What the¡?" he muttered, looking around. Hector wasn''t at the counter. Instead, Tyler heard the rhythmic clang of a hammer from the back room¡ªHector was working. Tyler immediately turned and left the shop.
Tyler scanned the street and spotted Emily running away. A serious expression settled on his face as he took off after her. His speed was astonishing; he moved with a blur of motion, pushing past startled onlookers with effortless ease, catching up to Emily in a matter of seconds. He gently but firmly turned her around, holding her arms.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low. "Why are you suddenly running away?"
Tears welled in Emily''s eyes. "You just want to punish me, that''s it, right? You''re getting revenge for me stealing from you. I stole from that man, and you''re bringing me right back to him," she accused, her voice trembling.
Tyler looked at her, his expression softening. "Are you stupid? Why would I pay seven gold just to get you out of a dungeon so I could let him beat you up? What kind of dumb thing is that? If I wanted you to get what you deserved, I would have left you there, wouldn''t I?" He realized he was gripping her arms too tightly; he saw tears welling up in her eyes as she bit her lip, reacting to the pain. He immediately loosened his grip. "Oh, I''m sorry," he said, his voice laced with genuine remorse. "That''s not what I meant. I didn''t mean you totally deserved what those people were about to do to you. What I meant is¡"
"No, it''s fine," Emily interrupted, her voice choked with emotion. "I did deserve what was coming to me."
Tyler shook his head, placing a hand on his forehead. "No, you didn''t. What I''m trying to do here is help you. Don''t you remember what I said to that guard when you were in that dungeon? I''m trying to get you a job."
Surprise flickered across Emily''s face. *Get me a job? So, he was serious about that?* she thought.
Tyler continued, "Listen, just follow me, okay? We''re going to go into that shop, and I''m going to try getting you a job from him. I''ll be right beside you, so don''t be afraid. Okay?"
Emily hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Hmm, okay."
Tyler''s expression turned serious. "Really, because if you turn back and run again, I''m not going to go after you. I''m trying to help you here, but if you try to make things harder, then I can''t help you. Because, in the end, I don''t really know you."
His words hit Emily like a punch to the gut. Her heart pounded in her chest; a strange, unfamiliar hurt bloomed within her.
"Oh, alright," she mumbled hesitantly.
Tyler turned and walked back toward the shop. Emily followed, her steps hesitant. He entered the shop, then looked back to see Emily still standing outside, her nervousness palpable. *Man, she looks so nervous,* Tyler thought. *How can a person like her even steal stuff? What, does she not get nervous when people aren''t there?*
"Come on, get in," he called to her.
Emily slowly, hesitantly, took a step inside.
Tyler yelled, "Hector, I''m back!" Emily''s heart leaped into her throat.
"Hold on a minute," Hector''s voice called back. "I''m trying to finish this."
Tyler went into the back room. He saw Hector plunge a red-hot sword into a bowl of water; a hissing cloud of steam erupted as the metal cooled.
Hector placed the slightly curved, now sharpened black sword onto the others on the iron table beside him. "Did you bring her? We have to do this fast because I have to work on a chest plate someone requested earlier while you were gone."
"Oh, yeah, I brought her," Tyler replied, but as he turned to look for Emily, he found she''d vanished again. "Oh, come on," he muttered, heading outside. He found her by the side of the door, her head bowed. "What are you doing? Come in here, he''s waiting for you."
"Oh, okay," she mumbled, finally entering the shop.
Hector''s eyes widened as he saw Emily. "Wait a damn minute, I know her."
Tyler nodded. "Yeah, I figured you might. She''s the one who¡" He started to explain, but Hector interrupted.
"She''s one of the orphans from Lyria. What is she doing here?"
"I visited Lyria''s orphanage often. There was someone I knew there¡ and I just saw her a couple of times. She was little back then. But because she''s grown, I guess she''s not allowed there anymore. Hey, what''s your name?"
Emily looked up, her voice barely a whisper. "Oh, my name is Emily."
"Emily," Hector repeated, "and your last name?"
Emily shook her head. "I don''t know my last name."
Tyler exchanged a confused glance with Emily. *Is she lying to him?* he wondered.
Hector seemed to understand. "Ah, of course, I forgot you''re an orphan. Anyways, where do you live in town?"
"Oh, I didn''t have a place to stay, so I just lived in different places," Emily explained quietly.
Hector looked at her thoughtfully. "Different places?"
Emily nodded.
Hector sighed, then looked at Tyler. "Do you really want me to hire her?"
Tyler nodded firmly. "Yeah, we''ll be helping her with that."
Hector hesitated. "I don''t know¡ all right. She''ll work here, but if she spills anything, or anything happens, I''m gonna blame it on you, understand?"
Tyler chuckled. "Oh, um, yeah, yeah, I understand."
Emily''s heart pounded in her chest again.
Tyler looked at Emily, offering a reassuring smile. "Looks like you''re hired." He turned his attention back to Hector. "So, when will she start?"
"I don''t know, anytime. She can start today. My right arm hurts right now, and my back¡ so she can start with the cleaning."
Tyler turned to Emily. "You have to take the broom from the back and start sweeping. There''s a lot of cleaning here to do. You''re going to have to clean a lot of stuff."
Emily''s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. "Yes, thank you, sir."
"Oh, just call me Tyler," he corrected gently.
"Yes, sir¡ Tyler," Emily replied, still a little hesitant.
"Just Tyler," he repeated with a smile. He then turned to Hector. "Oh, what about the payments? What are you going to pay her?"
Hector looked at Tyler with a surprised expression. "Wait, I''m going to pay her? I thought you were going to pay her!"
"What? I mean, I don''t¡ I mean, I thought¡" Tyler stammered, slightly embarrassed.
Hector chuckled. "I''m just messing with you. I''m obviously going to pay her. So, what are you going to do? Are you just going to craft more items?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, a small smile touching his lips. "I have a lot of items to craft right now."
"Good," Hector said, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I''m looking forward to it. I want to see the kind of items you craft. It''s my curiosity as a blacksmith. The sword you showed me that time, and the daggers¡ they were really good-looking, but they weren''t really strong."
Tyler nodded. "Yeah." He paused, then asked, "Oh, do you still have those metal scraps out the back?"
"Yes, I still have them," Hector confirmed. "A lot of them."
"That''s great, then I can use all of them, right?" Tyler asked, already heading towards the back.
Hector shrugged. "Why not? We can use all of them. With your unique skill that turns useless scrap metal into something useful, it''s good. Plus, if it allows you to make more weapons, it just means more money for me, right?"
Tyler nodded. "Yeah."
Emily, meanwhile, quietly went to get a broom. Hector followed her, saying, "I have to go back to making that chest plate."
"Yeah," Tyler replied, also heading towards the back room. He exited through the back door and found himself facing a large pit filled with various scrap metals. They shimmered faintly blue for a moment before vanishing, silently transferring into his inventory.
Chapter 44: Unexpected
Tyler stared at his inventory: 27 silver ores, 18 copper ores, 26 iron ores, 32 zinc, and 12 steel. He looked at the now-empty pit and thought, "What should I craft first?" He muttered, "System, show me the recipes." A system panel appeared, displaying:
Armor Recipe: 1 Hexhorn Hide, 2 Hexhorn Horns ¡ú Leather Boots
Weapon Recipe: 20 Hexhorn Horns, 12 Iron Ores ¡ú Offense Shield
Accessory Recipe: 1 Adas Tree Leaf, 2 Small Iron Ores ¡ú Luck Necklace
Alchemy Recipe: 100ml Brulin Blood, 500ml Water, 1 Hexhorn Horn ¡ú Weak Defense Potion
Tyler muttered, "Craft Leather Boots." The system displayed: Craft Leather Boots (Yes/No). He replied, "Yes." The system displayed: Crafting successful.
Emily, outside, heard Tyler muttering. She paused, looked toward the back door window, and saw Tyler. She then saw him turn, holding a pair of boots. They were brown, polished leather, catching the sunlight. The soles were white and hard.
Tyler entered, saying, "I just crafted something."
Hector, using a small measuring tape on the zinc on the metal table, looked up. "Already?"
"Yeah, I crafted a pair of boots," Tyler said, sitting to remove his own shoes.
"You can craft these kinds of wears as well?" Hector asked.
"Yeah," Tyler said, standing. He looked at the leather boots and said, "Equip." To Emily and Hector''s surprise, the boots shimmered blue, vanished, and reappeared on Tyler''s feet. His old shoes lay on the floor. Tyler stepped, testing them. "They feel really comfortable," he said. "It''s almost like a perfect fit." He looked down, and a system text box appeared beside the boots, displaying: +3% Speed, +7 Def. Tyler thought, *Hmm, not bad.*
He heard Emily say, "Sir, you''re a craftsman?"
"Sort of," Tyler replied. "I''m an assassin and a craftsman-hunter."
Emily was surprised. *He has two different skills from two different categories. That''s.... incredible,* she thought.
Hector said, "Assassin, huh? Well, it does explain your gear and armor. I would have crafted you something nice, but since you can''t use anybody else''s armor or weapons, I guess I can''t."
"Nah, it''s alright," Tyler said. "I can craft my own.
"They are some pretty good-looking boots, to be honest,"Hector said. "Yeah, I''m going to wear these ones."
Tyler turned to Emily, who quickly looked down and continued sweeping into the other room. He then addressed Hector. "Do you sell shields?"
"Well, of course," Hector said. "They''re always in the back, though. Look in that corner. Remove the cloth covering those things. There are shields there."
Tyler examined the crates, removing the cloth covering them. Various shields were stacked within: oval shields, kite-shaped shields, and round shields. Their colors varied¡ªsome were black, others silver, and still others a dark gray. He selected a large, round shield. Its surface felt cold and smooth beneath his fingertips. He hefted it; the weight was substantial, far exceeding what he expected. He tapped the surface with his knuckles; the sound was a dull, resonant thud. The craftsmanship was evident in the even surface and the subtle curve of the shield''s face.
"Wow," he murmured, impressed. "This feels pretty heavy, and it''s super strong. It''s very, very hard. It''s honestly beautiful, too."
"Oh, thank you," Hector replied. "What did you ask about the shield?"
"I''m thinking of crafting one right now," Tyler said.
"Really?" Hector asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
Tyler said, "System, craft Offense Shield." The system interface appeared, displaying: Craft Offense Shield (Yes/No). Tyler selected "Yes." The system then displayed: Crafting...
Tyler carefully returned the shield to its crate and replaced the cloth covering. The system interface updated: Crafting Successful.
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Tyler looked at Hector. "It''s already crafted. I only have to equip it now."
"Alright," Hector said, his curiosity piqued. "I''m looking forward to seeing what it looks like."
Tyler extended his hand. The shield materialized, seemingly from thin air. It was round, with a series of slightly curved iron spikes protruding from its front surface. The iron had a polished finish, gleaming with a silvery sheen. The craftsmanship was exquisite; the carving was precise, the metal flawlessly worked.
Hector reached out, his fingers brushing against the smooth, cold iron of the shield. He took it from Tyler, turning it over in his hands. "What an incredible shield," he breathed, his voice filled with awe. "This is...this is incredible." He examined the grip on the back, then turned it back to the front. "This shield is like the perfect tool for a tank-type hunter. It works both ways¡ªdefense and offense. The spikes in the front are pointy, but not too pointy. It''s hard, durable...more durable than any crafted item I''ve ever seen you make."
Before Tyler could respond, a system interface appeared before Hector: *You have completed one of the five objectives: Craft more than ten items.* Another interface followed: *Rewards: The crafting skill has advanced to another stage. The user can now craft more durable items and craft items with increased attack, defense, agility, and other effects.*
Tyler, surprised, checked his own system interface. Beside both of his crafting skills, the number "2" now appeared, indicating a level increase. He muttered, "Wow, I''ve leveled up."
"What?" Hector asked, noticing Tyler''s hushed words.
"Oh, it''s nothing," Tyler replied. "Anyways, how much do you think we can sell this shield for?"
Hector examined the shield again. "Probably about eleven gold."
"Whoa, eleven gold? Really?" Tyler exclaimed.
"Yes," Hector confirmed. "We can sell this thing for eleven gold. I was going to say ten, but it''s kind of unique."
"Eleven gold, huh? That''s great," Tyler said.
Emily returned, interrupting them. "Oh, excuse me, but I finished cleaning."
Hector looked surprised. "What? So fast? There''s no way you would have finished cleaning so fast." He looked around the shop. She had indeed cleaned everything. The dust was gone, the floors spotless. "Wow, you really did finish cleaning, huh? I guess the floor really didn''t need any mopping. Oh, but you missed something. In the crafting area, you''ll have to clean some weapons. You''ll have to wipe them down. Make sure not to use water; I don''t want them to rust quickly, understand? You can handle weapons, right?"
"Yes," Emily replied, "I believe I can do that."
"Excellent," Hector said.
Tyler said, "Oh, I almost forgot. I''m supposed to go home and wait for Grone. He said he''s coming, and I can show him something."
"All right," Hector said. "I''m going to display the shield, hanging it upwards so people can see it as they come in. I''m pretty sure someone is going to buy it."
As Hector finished speaking, a slightly overweight man entered the shop. He wore leather armor, his stomach extending below the bottom hem, and carried a large hammer slung over his shoulder.
"Are you finished with the armor?" the man asked.
"Oh, I''m still making it," Hector replied.
"Oh, finish up already," the man said impatiently. "I have to go hunting today. Make sure you finish it before nightfall."
"Don''t worry," Hector said, "I''ll work on it now."
"Man, I should have gone to Old Man Ron instead," the man grumbled as he left the shop.
Hector sighed in disappointment. Tyler looked at him and asked, "Who''s Old Man Ron?"
"Oh, he''s another blacksmith in this town," Hector explained. "Most hunters go to him to buy their items. That''s why most hunters don''t come here. He knows how to make better weapons than I do."
"Really?" Tyler asked, surprised.
"Yes," Hector confirmed. "His workshop is near the Guildhall, which is a big advantage for him. Most hunters don''t have to walk all the way here to buy items. Most hunters who come here are either already busy around this area or are new to Veridia and see my shop as the closest one to the market."
Tyler nodded thoughtfully. "So, it means we have competition around here." He patted Hector on the shoulder. "Don''t worry about it. I mean, we''re going to craft a lot of items¡ªa lot of *great* items. I can feel it. So don''t think about it. You already saw that the copper daggers and the shield are eye-catching. I''m pretty sure people are going to come in here and buy them. Yeah?"
"Yes," Hector agreed. "Anyways, I''m going to have to go in the back and finish that breastplate."
"Alright, I''m leaving," Tyler said, heading for the door.
Emily called out, "Sir, wait!"
Tyler turned back. "I told you to just call me Tyler. You don''t need to be so formal."
"Oh, I''m sorry, but I wanted to ask you something," Emily said hesitantly.
Tyler thought, *She''s really apologetic, isn''t she? Kind of reminds me of myself somehow.* "What did you want to ask?"
"Why did you save me back then?" Emily asked, her gaze fixed on the ground.
Tyler looked at her, a little surprised. "I''m sorry, what?"
"Oh, I''m just asking...why did you save me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
Tyler chuckled softly. "Well...I could just say it was the right thing to do, but..." He paused, considering his words. "You looked like you were in trouble, getting punished for something. You looked scared." Emily looked down again, as if ashamed.
"I don''t know," Tyler admitted. "That''s it. I don''t know. I just felt like helping somehow. You looked really fragile, and your face looked scared. And I didn''t want to see that. To put it simply, I didn''t like what I was seeing, and I wanted to change that. I didn''t like how it made me feel, and how, in a way, it made you feel. So...I don''t know how to put this..."
"Oh, thank you," Emily said quickly, her eyes welling up.
Tyler then remembered something. He removed six silver coins and offered them to her, palm open. "What is this for?" Emily asked, looking at the coins.
"I want you to buy yourself some new clothes," Tyler said.
"Sir," Emily protested, "you''ve already done so much for me. I''ll just buy clothes with my own money. You already got me a job. I don''t want to trouble you further."
"What? Are the clothes around here that expensive? You need gold?" Tyler asked, noticing Emily''s reluctance. The silver coins in his hand shimmered, transforming into a single gold coin.
"Oh, no, no, no," Emily said, waving her hands in protest. "You don''t have to¡ I mean, you really don''t need to give me any money for clothes."
Tyler said, "No, I''m choosing to do this. I already have some money. Plus¡ you really need some new clothes right now. How long have you been wearing those?"
Emily stammered, "Ah, oh, um¡ I''ve been wearing them for some time now." She thought, *Is it really that bad?*
"You don''t have to answer," Tyler said gently. The gold coin vanished, reappearing as six silver coins in his palm. He placed them in Emily''s hand. "Take it. Go to the store and buy yourself some new clothes."
"Oh, um, thank you, sir," Emily said, her face flushing slightly. "Seriously, I don''t know how to repay you. If you need me to do anything, just tell me."
Tyler thought, *Anything, huh?* He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts that sprang to mind. "Oh, don''t worry about it. Okay, I''m leaving. Make sure to take care of the shop, okay? Oh, and listen to Hector." He waved goodbye.
"Goodbye," Emily replied.
Tyler walked away, his mind still on Emily. *I wonder what she''ll look like in different clothes,* he mused.
Tyler continued walking until he reached his house. He found Heather crawling on the kitchen floor. "Oh, hi, how are you doing?" he said, lifting her up. *I''m really not good with babies, am I?* he thought. Heather''s small hand reached up and tugged at his gloom armor. He quickly set her back down.
"Lisa, I''m home! I''m back," Tyler called out.
A groggy voice answered from another room, "Oh, you''re already back?"
Lisa emerged, her hair tousled and her eyes still sleepy. "Oh, so you were sleeping?" Tyler asked.
"Mm-hmm," Lisa murmured. "Heather was awake." She took Heather from Tyler''s arms. Tyler looked at Heather, and to his surprise, her level appeared above her head: Level 9.
He muttered, "Wait, am I seeing this right?"
"What?" Lisa asked, noticing his astonishment.
"Oh, it''s nothing," Tyler said, recovering quickly. "It''s just that¡ how old is Heather again?"
Chapter 45: Allies Alike
Lisa looked at Tyler''s confused face and said, "Three. She''s three years old. Why did you ask?"
"You become an F-rank when you reach level 10, right?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Lisa answered.
"Well... it''s just, Heather has reached level nine." Lisa''s eyes widened in surprise. "Level nine? Why do you say that? She can''t be level nine" she asked, a concerned expression on her face.
"Oh, you might not know this, but I have the Uncover skill, and I can read people''s levels. Your level is... 141!?" Tyler exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise. "What''s going on? How are you this high level?"
Lisa sat down, holding Heather. Heather, in Lisa''s arms, began chewing on the fabric of Lisa''s shirt. Heather''s low, unintelligible babbling was the only sound.
Lisa sighed, covering her mouth. "I didn''t think anyone would see through the spell. I just¡ I can''t tell you about it yet."
Tyler knelt in front of them. "You can tell me anything. I''m willing to help, no matter what the problem is."
Lisa hesitated. "No, I can''t! I don''t really know you!! You''re just a young man my husband brought to our house. He told me he was helping you get on your feet until you could take your own steps, but you started living here and¡ª" She stopped, realizing she was about to say something hurtful. "Oh, I''m sorry," she whispered, looking down at Heather.
Tyler, surprised at first, softened his expression. "Don''t worry about it," he said quietly, standing up.
"I''m sorry, it''s just that I can''t share this with you at the moment. So please forget about the other things I''ve said," Lisa said.
Tyler nodded, a small, strained smile touching his lips. "I''m gonna go outside for a bit," he said, heading for the door. He opened it and stepped out, the fresh air doing little to calm the turmoil in his mind. *Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I forget something like that? I just started living here and started leeching off them again, didn''t I? And I promised I would repay Grone for helping me get on my feet, just like she said.*
He clenched his fists, frustration building. *But what am I doing? I''m just living in their house, eating their food, but right now I have the money to buy my own. It''s almost like I forgot who I am and became part of their little family. Was it that much of a burden that it became second nature?* He released his grip, a slow exhale escaping his lips. *That''s right. I don''t know anyone here. I came here by myself. He helped me become a hunter and reach this level, and that''s enough. From now on, I can rise up on my own. I need to become fully independent¡ªsomething I haven''t done even once in my life. That''s right. She didn''t mean to hurt my feelings, but in a way, she just helped me remember.*
Lost in thought, he didn''t notice Grone approaching until the man spoke. He recognized the familiar eye patch and short black hair. Grone entered the yard and said, "I''m back." Tyler noticed that Grone''s voice sounded a lot like Hector''s.
"What''s wrong?" Grone asked, noticing Tyler''s troubled expression.
Tyler forced a smile. "Oh, no, no, it''s nothing. I was just thinking of something, but it''s not that important. Anyways, you wanted me to show you my skills, right?"
"Yeah, yes, of course," Grone replied. "Let me just see Lisa and Heather first, and then we can go."
"Yeah, right," Tyler said, letting Grone enter the house while he remained outside. He checked his inventory, considering crafting options. He had enough copper for daggers and a surplus of other materials. Suddenly, he remembered something. "Oh, I totally forgot about the potions! I want to make a lot of potions and drink them to increase my HP. Oh, and I want to show them to Grone so I can hear what he thinks about them. I wonder if people know about potions in this world," he mused.
Meanwhile, inside, Grone met Heather. Lisa, seeing Grone, said, "Oh honey, you''re back. How was your hunt?"
"It was alright," Grone replied. "I managed to take down some monsters from the quest, but I decided to just come back earlier to help Tyler with something. So I''m about to leave again. How is Heather?"
"Oh, she''s fine as usual," Lisa said. "She''s been sleeping a lot today."
"Aren''t you going to eat first before you go?" Lisa asked.
Grone chuckled. "I know, I already ate before I came here. I''ll eat once I come back," he said.
"Oh, really?" Lisa said. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something. Tyler brought some lucky meat with him today."
"What?" Grone said, surprised.
"Yes, I was quite surprised too," Lisa replied. "I wonder how he got it. Anyways, I''m just happy about it. I don''t know if he bought it or caught it himself."
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
"He probably bought it," Grone said. "I mean, that meat itself is expensive. Plus, it''s pretty rare to see someone selling it. If someone *did* sell it, they would make it expensive. This is the type of animal that''s eaten by nobles."
Lisa looked at Grone and said, "Yeah," then rested her face in her hand, her elbow on the table. "I wonder when was the last time we shared those kinds of meals together."
Grone smiled. "It was a pretty long time ago. Too bad, we can''t afford those meals now. I guess we could be thankful to Tyler. Speaking of which, I guess I have to go now. I don''t want to keep him waiting."
"Yes, you''re starting to depart," Lisa said. "Don''t take too long, okay?"
"Don''t worry, we''ll be back before you know it," Grone said, closing the door behind him as he went outside. He looked at Tyler and said, "All right, let''s go."
Tyler nodded. "All right," he said, and started to walk beside Grone, heading for the marketplace.
"Lisa tells me you caught some lurker meat," Grone said.
"Yeah, I did," Tyler replied.
"How did you do that? And where did you find one?" Grone asked, intrigued.
"When I was crossing the river, I got attacked," Tyler explained. "I fought it underwater, and luckily I was able to win."
"Really?" Grone said, surprised. "You were able to fight a sea beast monster underwater and survive? Kid, how strong have you gotten?"
"Oh, I''m pretty sure I was just lucky," Tyler said modestly. "It''s probably because of one of my skills. If I didn''t use it, I could have drowned, or it could have eaten me. All I know is it was all because of luck."
"I don''t think so," Grone countered. "I told you, when you fight something strong and get out of it alive, it''s not because of luck; it''s because of¡ it just shows how far you''ve come. Just like how you defeated that shadow walker. I need to hear that story. Tell me how you defeated it."
"Oh, okay," Tyler said, and as they walked through the marketplace, he recounted the story of how he and Rebecca had defeated the shadow walker.
Meanwhile, at the Guildhall, Bernardo nervously chewed his fingernails and tapped the heels of his boots against the floor. *What the hell am I going to do now?* he thought. *If I don''t pay those bastards tomorrow, they''re going to kill me. Even if I try running away, those fucking bastards will track me down.* He overheard a hunter at the next table speaking.
"I can''t believe that bastard did that to me," Steven spat, slamming his fist on the table. Gary smirked from across the table. "Did he piss you off that much?"
"You have no idea," Steven said, his voice tight. Gary leaned in, steepling his fingers. "Did you really kneel? It''s hard to believe."
"Are you kidding me? I don''t even know what happened," Steven said, his voice rising. "I wanted to fight, but he had¡ a different aura. We''re both E-Ranks, but it felt like I was facing someone much higher. That''s what pisses me off. I felt like a coward, begging for my life."
Gary slapped him. "Why did you¡ª" Steven started, only to receive another slap, this time to his left cheek. Some in the guild hall glanced their way; others ignored them. Bernardo, at a nearby table, watched in surprise.
"I don''t have a weak brother," Gary said, his voice low and hard. "Remember when you wanted to become a hunter? I told you to wait for me, didn''t I?"
"I''m sorry, big brother, but¡ª" Steven began, but Gary raised a hand, and Steven flinched, raising his hands defensively.
Gary sighed, dropping his hand. "What the hell''s his name?"
Steven blinked. "What?"
"Are you freaking kidding me? You''re telling me about this hunter, and you don''t even know his name?" Steven shook his head. "No, I know his name. It''s¡ what was it again? Yeah, Tyler. I got his name because he was wearing different armor. Seemed like an assassin hunter. Some kind of blue, long armor, almost like a robe. I don''t know what it''s called, but the kind you see high-level assassin hunters wearing. And he was fast."
Bernardo''s heart quickened. *Are they talking about that hunter?* he thought.
"Blue armor, huh? What else was he wearing?" Gary asked.
"Ah, leather pants and¡ an old shirt underneath," Steven said. "His shoes were¡ unusual. Short, black hair, too."
"You said all this happened at night, too?" Gary asked.
"Yes," Steven replied. "I think he''s an assassin hunter. His speed¡ he was really fast."
"Or maybe he''s a false ranker," Gary mused.
"A false ranker?" Steven frowned. "I don''t think anyone would want to be an E-rank false ranker. Why would they do that?"
"Who knows," Gary shrugged. "Anyways, even if he is a false ranker, I''m definitely gonna kill him."
"Oh, really? Thank you, big brother. I didn''t think I¡" Steven began, but Gary cut him off.
"Don''t think I''m letting you off the hook that easily," Gary said. "You''re going to land the final blow."
"What?" Steven asked.
"Yes," Gary said. "If you kill this hunter, you''ll level up easily, won''t you? You''ll skip a lot of levels. Remember when you said you needed help getting stronger? Well, I''m planning on doing that now. This feels like the right time. I don''t want to bring shame upon our family. So, Father forcefully told me to help you out. It''s probably because a brat like you told him I refused to help you level up, isn''t it?"
"Yes," Steven admitted. "I knew that was the only way to make you do it."
Gary raised his hand. "What? You want me to hit you again?"
Steven lifted his hands defensively. "Oh, I''m sorry," he mumbled, closing his eyes.
"Oh man, you''re a freaking coward, aren''t you?" Gary said, but his tone lacked real anger.
Steven lowered his hands. "I''m not. It''s just that you''re my brother, and you''re very strong, so¡"
Bernardo interrupted. "Excuse me, but I think I heard you two talking about someone I''m looking for."
Gary frowned. "Huh? What the hell do you want?"
"I heard you talking about a hunter who was wearing blue-colored armor, E-Rank, and moves very fast," Bernardo said. "I''m looking for that person, and what I heard in your conversation fits the description."
"So, you were just eavesdropping," Steven said.
"I''m sorry, I just couldn''t help but overhear," Bernardo replied.
"Why are you looking for this person?" Gary asked.
"This person stole something from me," Bernardo said. "They stole gold from me."
"How much?" Gary asked.
"Yeah, how much?" Steven asked, a grin spreading across his face.
Gary glared at Steven, and the grin instantly vanished, replaced by a look of fear.
"Forty gold coins," Bernardo answered.
"Whoa! Forty gold coins?" Gary exclaimed. "That''s a lot. Why were you just carrying forty gold coins around?"
"I was going to buy something worth that much, but he stole it from me," Bernardo explained. "So, I have a proposition for you guys. What if I help you?"
"Help us?" Steven scoffed. "We don''t need any help from a freaking stranger."
Gary shot Steven an annoyed look. "Why do you think we need your help?" Gary said. " As you said, he might be a false ranker. I mean, I was surprised he was so fast, and I''m at E-rank level. But that young man was way faster¡ªunbelievably fast. So, he might be faking his rank to make people think he''s weak, so he can take you by surprise." Gary looked from Bernardo to Steven. "Do you really think he''s as fast as me, Steve?"
"No, not really," Steven said. "Well, slightly, I think. I mean, I don''t know how strong you''ve grown, so¡"
"Well then, this is getting interesting. Alright, we''ll let you join us. We''ll go to the crossroads base. That''s where you say he was, right?" Gary said.
"Yes, he was there," Steven replied. "But what if we don''t find him?"
"We might just find him," Gary said. "If he''s pretending to be an E-Rank, then we might really find him."
"Alright then, I guess he''s joining us?" Steven said.
Gary folded his arms. "Alright. Don''t let us down, old man."
Bernardo thought, *Yes, I may have a way with this. And if everything works in my favor, I might be able to even take care of these two.*
Meanwhile, in the wagon, Grone chuckled. "I don''t believe it. You actually took all the spoils?"
"Yeah," Tyler said. "She had to pay for what she did to us back then, didn''t she?"
Grone chuckled again. "Yeah, that''s definitely right. I would have done the same thing. You''ve actually managed to make me laugh this hard. Anyways, it seems like we''re getting close."
"Hey, we''re stopping here," Grone said.
"Really? Alright," the wagon driver said, pulling the horses to a stop.
Grone and Tyler paid the driver and walked off toward the training grounds in the vast green plains. They arrived at their usual spot. Grone stopped. "Wait a minute¡ what happened to the tree?"
Tyler stared at the fallen, square, box-shaped leaf tree. He scratched his head. "Yeah, I did that."
"When? And how?" Grone asked.
"I came here training by myself, right?" Tyler said. "When I crafted the bashing hammer, I used its scale, and it broke the tree."
"Wait," Grone said, "you once crafted a hammer?"
"Yes, I can do that." Tyler replied.
"Alright," Grone said as he walked away, until they were only a few feet apart. He unsheathed his blade, pointing it at Tyler with a grin. "I want to see those skills of yours."
Chapter 46: Bonds Of Trust
Grone pointed his sword at Tyler. The wind whispered through the vast green plain, rustling their hair.
"Hold on, I''m unarmed," Tyler said.
"What? You didn''t bring any weapons?" Grone asked, lowering his sword slightly.
"Craft iron axe," Tyler muttered. The system interface displayed: Crafting¡ The loading bar filled rapidly, and then: Crafting complete.
"Equip," Tyler commanded. The axe materialized in his hand, silver-grey and slightly longer than the bashing hammer. Its head was as wide as his own, curved, durable, and razor-sharp.
"An axe? Did you craft that just now?" Grone asked, surprised.
"Yeah, it''s the only weapon I have right now," Tyler said, adopting a fighting stance, holding the axe with both hands. Beside the axe''s image on his system interface, the ATK stat appeared: ATK: 84
Suddenly Grone striked.
Grone¡¯s initial attack was a breathtaking display of swordsmanship. A blindingly fast overhead strike, aimed at cleaving Tyler¡¯s skull, whistled through the air, a silver streak against the azure sky. Tyler, however, met the blow with a roar and a brutal upward parry. The axe head, wide and heavy, crashed against Grone¡¯s blade with a deafening clang that echoed across the empty plain. Sparks flew, momentarily illuminating the grim set of Tyler¡¯s jaw. The force of the impact sent tremors up Grone¡¯s arm, a testament to Tyler¡¯s unexpected strength. "Impressive," Grone grunted, his voice tight with surprise. "But strength alone won''t win this. This isn''t a contest of brute force."
Frustrated but undeterred, Grone abandoned the sweeping blows. He shifted to a series of rapid, precisely targeted thrusts. The first, a lightning-fast jab aimed at Tyler''s exposed ribs, was deflected only by a fraction of an inch by a desperate upward chop of the axe. The second, a cunning riposte following the parry, aimed for the gap between Tyler''s raised arm and his torso, was met with a jarring clang as Tyler twisted, his axe narrowly averting a potentially fatal wound. The third thrust, a deceptive feint to the left followed by a swift lunge to the right, was intended to exploit a momentary lapse in Tyler''s concentration. But Tyler, despite his less refined technique, reacted with surprising speed, his axe meeting Grone''s blade with a heavy thud that sent vibrations up Grone''s arm. Each thrust was a carefully calculated risk, a probe for weakness in Tyler¡¯s defenses, a dance of steel and muscle played out against the backdrop of the silent, windswept plain. The rhythmic clang of steel on steel filled the air, a relentless percussion punctuated by the grunts of exertion from both combatants.
Mid-parry, Tyler grunted, a low sound of exertion. Grone pressed his advantage, a swift thrust aimed at Tyler''s side. Tyler barely deflected it, the axe ringing against the sword. "Not bad," Grone said, his voice tight with exertion, "but skill will win out. You lack the finesse to match my precision." He circled, searching for an opening in Tyler''s defense. The dust swirled around them, a testament to the ferocity of their exchange. The air crackled with tension.
"You''re very good with that axe," Grone said to Tyler. "Have you by chance used an axe before?"
Tyler looked at Grone. "No, it''s probably because of my weapon mastery skill. I developed that while I was leveling up. It makes it easier for me to use any weapon I want."
"Good," Grone said, tilting his sword slightly. "That means I can get serious, right?"
With a sudden, powerful movement, Grone swung his sword in a wide arc. Tyler''s system interface flashed: Grone has activated skill: Slash. Instinctively, Tyler activated his Rush skill, bending low as an almost invisible, colorless wave of energy ¨C a compressed blade of air ¨C passed a hair''s breadth above his head. The Slash impacted the top of the already felled tree, slicing it cleanly, leaving a perfectly flat surface.
As Tyler straightened, Grone instantly followed with his Pierce skill. He thrust his sword, aiming straight for Tyler''s abdomen. Tyler used the axe head to block, covering his abdomen. The point of Grone''s sword striking the axe head with a sharp *ting*. A shockwave erupted from the impact, causing both their hair to rustle violently. The force propelled Tyler backward, his feet impacting the top of the cut tree, sending him into a backflip. He landed on his feet, kneeling, breathing heavily. Before he could fully recover, he saw Grone charging at him at incredible speed.
Grone planted his foot on the stump of the cut-down tree, propelling himself upward. He swung his sword in a powerful downward slash aimed at bisecting Tyler. Tyler rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being severed in half. Grone, seeing Tyler''s quick reaction, shifted his attack, swinging his sword horizontally. Tyler rolled again, his movements surprisingly swift. He grabbed his axe with both hands, blocking Grone''s next strike.
Grone paused, watching Tyler. "Is this one of your skills?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise. "You''ve gotten much faster."
Tyler struggled; the force of Grone''s sword pressing down on his axe was immense. "Yeah," Tyler grunted, "It''s my Rush skill."
Tyler''s eyes glowed faintly blue, a subtle change that didn''t escape Grone''s notice. "How...?" Grone muttered, his thoughts interrupted by Tyler''s sudden burst of strength. With a powerful heave, Tyler pushed Grone back with his axe. Grone stumbled, giving Tyler a moment to catch his breath.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"What was that just now?" Grone asked, regaining his balance.
"What do you mean?" Tyler replied, his breathing heavy. He swung his axe, aiming for Grone.
Grone backpedaled, dodging the blow as the axe bit into the earth. Before Grone could counterattack, Tyler lifted his axe, reversing its grip, and swung upwards, aiming for Grone''s chin. Grone bent backward, narrowly avoiding the blow. Tyler, seizing the opportunity, rotated his body, putting all his remaining strength into a powerful overhead swing, his roar echoing across the plain as the axe descended.
Grone hopped back as the axe head thudded into the ground. "Wow," he muttered, surprised. "This kid''s gotten a lot faster and stronger."
As Tyler tried to lift his axe, Grone reacted instantly. He stepped onto the axe head, then with a blur of motion, rotated, delivering a powerful kick to Tyler''s face. The force sent Tyler skidding backward across the ground. He wiped his cheek, spitting blood onto the grass.
Tyler dashed at Grone, his eyes glowing blue again. "Is he trying to fight me at close range?" Grone wondered. Then, realization dawned. "Wait," Grone said aloud.
Tyler threw a punch at Grone''s abdomen. With impossible speed, the axe, which had been lying on the ground, reappeared in Tyler''s hand. He used the axe head to strike Grone in the abdomen, sending him staggering backward.
As Grone skidded to a halt, Tyler rotated, delivering a powerful kick to Grone''s chest. Grone smiled, a grim expression. He dropped his sword, and dodged Tyler.
Surprised by the sudden action, Tyler swung his axe upwards. Grone dodged, going low, and landed a swift punch to Tyler''s abdomen. Tyler gasped, clutching his stomach. Another punch landed on his face, sending him reeling. A third blow struck his ribs, followed by a fourth to his chest, and a final, brutal blow to his other cheek.
"I''ve activated my Rush skill," Tyler thought, wiping blood from his mouth, "but even then, he''s still faster." He reached for his axe, then paused, pointing it at Grone.
"I thought you wanted to fight hand-to-hand," Grone said.
"Right," Tyler replied, his axe vanishing into his inventory. He adopted a fighting stance, fists clenched. "Come at me, whenever you''re ready," Grone said.
Tyler exploded into motion, his enhanced speed a blur. He feinted a jab to Grone''s face, a quick, deceptive movement designed to probe Grone''s defenses. Grone reacted instantly, shifting his weight to counter the anticipated blow. But Tyler, anticipating Grone''s reaction, abruptly shifted his weight, dropping low into a crouch. From this low, powerful stance, he unleashed a sweeping kick, aiming for Grone''s legs. Grone reacted instinctively, jumping back to avoid the full force of the blow. As Grone was in mid-air, Tyler, with a burst of speed, also jumped, rotating his body in a mid-air spin. He landed a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at Grone''s wrists as Grone attempted to regain his balance. The impact sent Grone sprawling, skidding across the ground. Tyler landed his own momentum carrying him forward.
"Where did he learn a move like that?" Grone mused, regaining his balance. Tyler, seizing the opportunity, dashed forward, launching a fist aimed at Grone''s face. Grone moved his head to the side, narrowly avoiding Tyler''s punch. He then used his right hand, his palm covering Tyler''s whole face, and simultaneously, he put his right leg behind Tyler''s own right leg. Using this leverage and Tyler''s forward momentum, Grone drove Tyler backward, sending him sprawling to the ground. The back of Tyler''s head struck the earth with a loud *thud*. Tyler gasped for air as he hit the ground, a harsh cough escaping his lips. Grone left him there for a moment.
"You did pretty well, kid," Grone said, his voice calm. "You''re pretty strong."
When Tyler got up, one eye squeezed shut, and he felt the pain radiating through his body. He then got up and said, "Yeah, but not strong enough yet."
Grone shook his head. "No," he said, "you''re strong enough. You can protect yourself in that forest."
Tyler, his vision now clear, saw that Grone was sitting on the stump, his sword resting in his hands. Tyler saw him smile and couldn''t help but let out a little laugh. "I just realized something," Tyler said. "You''re as strong as that Shadow Walker."
Grone chuckled. "Oh, am stronger, but I don''t think I''m as fast. You do realize Shadow Walkers are C-rank, right? I''m not even near their level right now." Tyler looked at Grone''s level and realized that Grone was level 59.
"Huh," Tyler said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Grone, I have a question I need to ask."
"Well, it''s just that you''re at level 59. I assume that you might be at level 60 or higher by now. I mean, you''ve killed a lot of monsters, and I assume you killed monsters from that quest you had earlier today. And somehow you''re at level 59. How is it that you''re leveling up slower than me? I mean, I level up slower because 25% of my XP is cut every time I kill a monster. But yours, I don''t know how to explain it." Grone looked at Tyler, then burst out laughing.
Tyler blinked, confused. "What? What is it? What''s so funny?"
Grone wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "I can''t believe you said you level up slower than me! I mean, think about it. On your first legal hunt, your first quest, you leveled up ten times! And you say you level up slower than me? If that''s not a joke, I don''t know what is."
Tyler frowned. "I''m serious, though. Every time I kill a monster, my XP is cut by 25%. I should be leveling up faster than this. And I *am* leveling up faster than you. You don''t seem like the type of person who''s afraid to face monsters¡ªthat would be one reason you wouldn''t level up faster¡ªand you seem to have a lot of experience, so that means you''ve fought a lot of monsters. So why is it that you''re not leveling up faster than I am?"
Grone looked at Tyler with a serious expression, then sighed. "I''m sorry, kid, but I can''t share this with you." Tyler remembered the same thing Grone''s wife, Lisa, had told him.
Tyler looked at Grone and smiled slightly, walking closer. "No, yeah, it''s fine. You don''t really know me, so you don''t have to share it with me. I understand."
Grone nodded. "Well, it''s not that I *don''t* want to, it''s just that this is very dangerous information to share with anyone. The only people who know are me and my wife."
Tyler''s expression turned thoughtful. "Oh, yeah, about that... did you know Heather''s level is level nine?"
Grone''s eyes widened. "What?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, "I was surprised too. But then, maybe it''s normal. I don''t know. You said people level up pretty fast, right? What I meant to say is, you said they level up automatically until they hit eighteen. I''m just surprised that she''s level nine, but about two weeks ago she was just a level four. I used my *Uncover* skill on her again, and I found out that she is level nine now."
Grone''s hands started shaking. Tyler noticed immediately. "What? What''s wrong?"
Grone grabbed his shaking arm with his other hand. "No, nothing."
"Nothing? Seriously? What''s wrong? You''re saying nothing, but I can see that there''s clearly a problem!" Tyler exclaimed. "Grone, remember what I told you a while after I came into this world? I said I''d repay you, so I want to help you. Please, just tell me. Tell me what''s bothering you, and maybe I can help. If you don''t tell me what''s bothering you, then I can''t do anything about it."
Grone cut Tyler off mid-sentence. "Alright, just sit beside me if you want me to tell you."
Tyler sat down beside the tree stump. Grone said, "All right, let me do something first." He reached into his pocket and produced a coin. It was black, unadorned, and seemed to be made of simple, ground metal. "I want you to hold this," Grone said, handing it to Tyler.
Tyler took the coin, holding it in his palm. Grone said, "Look at me." Tyler met Grone''s gaze, holding his stare. Grone held Tyler''s gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"Okay, um, what is this for?" Tyler finally asked.
Grone simply said, "You can bring it back." Tyler, a little confused, returned the coin. Grone received it and slipped it back into his pocket.
"What was that about?" Tyler asked.
Grone leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Okay, first off, I want you to tell me about yourself first. I want to know more about your past, Tyler. It''s only fair, right? I can''t reveal my whole past without knowing yours first."
"But why?" Tyler asked, "Why can''t you just tell me your past?"
Grone''s voice softened, his gaze drifting to the distant horizon. His face was suddenly etched with remorse. Tyler looked up at him, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. "Well, the truth is..." Grone began, his voice barely a whisper, "...I''m one of the descendants of the hero."
Chapter 47: The Beginning Before The End
Tyler was surprised. "What? You are one of them?"
Grone nodded. "Yes, I am. I know what you''re thinking. I don''t look anything like a hero''s descendant, am I right?"
Tyler looked up at Grone, considering. "No. I mean, I''ve never met one before, so I wouldn''t know."
Grone chuckled, a low, bitter sound. "I bet you would know if you met one. They''re entitled bastards, every one of them," he said, a hint of anger coloring his voice.
Tyler looked at him with a confused expression. Grone said, his voice softening slightly, "I know this sounds confusing, with everything I''ve told you. I told you the hero''s descendants were strong, that they all had high levels, that they leveled up faster than normal people. But you''d ask yourself, ''Why am I so weak, yet I claim to be a hero''s descendant?''"
He paused, studying Tyler''s face. "If you really want to know, you''ll have to listen to a very long story, and it''s going to get dark pretty soon. Are you willing to hear it?"
Tyler nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Yes, I want to hear your story."
Grone took a deep breath. "Alright then. I guess I''ll start from the beginning. It was forty years ago. I was born in the kingdom of Vainstrea, one of the great kingdoms here in the south."
*Forty years ago? Grone is older than I thought,* Tyler mused, surprised.
"As you might think, there was a celebration upon my day of birth. My father, Alexander Tyranny, was very happy, and my mother was very happy too. You see, when a descendant of the hero is born, a week later they''re usually around level ten, or close. But when my father used his Uncover skill on me a week later, I was still level one. He wasn''t worried; this wasn''t the first time something like this happened. Some hero''s descendants started leveling up after a month, but it was rare. That was until two years passed. That''s when my sister was born."
*(38 years ago)*
In a quiet residential area of the kingdom of Vainstrea, within a modest yet comfortable home, a joyous occasion unfolded. Elara, exhausted but radiant, lay in bed, cradling her newborn daughter. Alexander, her husband, knelt beside her, his face etched with a mixture of relief and overwhelming love. He gently took the infant from Elara''s arms, marveling at the tiny, perfect features.
"She''s beautiful, isn''t she?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Elara smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love. "More beautiful than I ever imagined," she breathed. "Look at her tiny fingers."
Alexander carefully swaddled their daughter, then reached out, his palm hovering over Elara''s abdomen. A soft, green light emanated from his hand, bathing her skin in an ethereal glow. "This is to ease the pain," he murmured, the light pulsing gently. The green glow subsided, leaving Elara''s skin looking smoother, the pallor replaced by a healthy rosiness.
The joy of that moment, a perfect picture of new life and familial love, filled the room. The new parents gazed at their daughter, their hearts overflowing with happiness.
Meanwhile James , in the other room, was being fed from a bottle by a maid seated in a chair. That was the beginning of it all. Days later, Alexander Tyranny returned from his guild raid. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He rode in a black carriage pulled by two strong horses, a vehicle clearly belonging to high-class nobles. Alexander stood outside the open window, his red armor gleaming faintly in the afternoon light, his red sword held casually in one hand. *It''s been a week since Ariel was born,* he thought. *I wonder if she''ll show any progress in leveling up.*
The carriage rolled into the Tyranny family''s yard, the rhythmic click-clack of the horses'' hooves on the cobblestones a steady beat against the silence. Two guards stood at the wrought-iron gates, opening them to allow the carriage to pass before smoothly closing them behind.
The yard was a picture of carefully cultivated beauty. A wide expanse of manicured lawn stretched before the house, dotted with meticulously pruned shrubs and flowering bushes bursting with color. Mature trees, their branches heavy with leaves, provided dappled shade. A central fountain, crafted from white marble, played a gentle melody of water, its spray catching the sunlight. Flowerbeds, overflowing with vibrant blooms, bordered neatly kept gravel paths that wound through the space. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and the gentle murmur of the fountain. The overall impression was one of serene elegance and quiet wealth.
Alexander stepped from the carriage, the cool afternoon air a welcome change from the confines of the vehicle. Joseph, the aged butler with neatly brushed white hair, a well-trimmed mustache, and spectacles perched on his nose, bowed deeply, his left hand resting on his abdomen. "Welcome, sir. I hope you had a pleasant journey and a successful raid," he said, his voice refined and respectful.
"Good day, Joseph," Alexander replied, his voice carrying a hint of weariness but also satisfaction.
"Good day to you as well, my lord," Joseph responded. "If it pleases you, I shall have the maids attend to the luggage and treasures immediately. You must wish to remove your armor."
Alexander nodded. "That would be appreciated."
He strode across the manicured lawn towards the house, a sprawling structure of pale stone that hinted at the considerable wealth of the Tyranny family. High, arched windows, framed by intricate stone carvings, looked out over the meticulously kept gardens. As he approached, several maids curtsied respectfully, their greetings barely audible above the gentle murmur of the fountain. Alexander acknowledged them with a brief nod, his gaze already fixed on the imposing entrance.
He entered the house and and proceeded directly to his private armory. The room was vast, dedicated entirely to his collection of weapons and armor. The walls were paneled in richly polished dark wood. Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating the room''s contents. The floor was covered in a thick, plush carpet that muffled his footsteps.
On one wall, a collection of weapons was displayed, each a testament to Alexander''s skill and accomplishments. A golden sword, its hilt encrusted with jewels, hung prominently, its blade gleaming faintly. Beside it, a collection of exquisitely crafted daggers, their sheaths adorned with silver filigree, were arranged neatly. A longbow, its wood polished to a deep, rich brown, rested against the wall, its quiver filled with arrows tipped with obsidian. These were not mere decorations; but tools of a master, each weapon imbued with a history of battles won and foes vanquished. Other racks held various swords, spears, and axes, each meticulously maintained and ready for use. The air held the scent of oiled leather and polished metal.
He moved towards a large, freestanding weapons rack, its wood dark and highly polished. After removing his armor, he hung it carefully on a nearby stand, the weight of his battles momentarily forgotten in the quiet orderliness of his armory.
Emerging from his armory, Alexander found a maid waiting at the door. She visibly flustered upon seeing him. "My lady has ordered us to prepare a bath for you, my lord. It is ready," she said, bowing her head.
"Right, I must reek of sweat from the raid, then," Alexander said, passing her.
"N-no, my lord," she stammered, "you smell¡ wonderful."
Alexander quietly proceeded to the bathroom. The room was entirely constructed of polished wood, steam rising from a large, round wooden tub in the center. Benches lined the sides of the spacious room. He began removing his shirt when a young butler with short hair entered carrying a fresh set of clothes.
"I''ll take these, sir," the butler offered.
"Be sure to open the window a little, will you?" Alexander requested.
"Yes, of course, sir," the butler replied, moving to the window and carefully opening it, allowing fresh air to circulate and some of the steam to escape. "Good," Alexander said.
Meanwhile, in her chambers, Elara had just finished breastfeeding Ariel. She looked up as her husband entered. "Oh, welcome back," she said. "So, how was it?"
Alexander said, "It was a hydra, so it was pretty tough." He paused, then pulled back his collar, revealing several deep, angry-looking marks on his shoulder. "It took a good chunk out of my shoulder. I regenerated, but as you know, SS+ monster attacks are hard to completely heal from."
"Oh dear, are you okay? You don''t have an aching feeling from it or anything, do you?" Elara said, concern lacing her voice.
Alexander replied, "Not really." He knelt beside her, gently moving a portion of the towel covering Ariel''s face. "There''s my angel. How was she doing today?"
"She''s been fine, mostly sleeping," Elara said.
"What about James?" Alexander asked, his gaze shifting to his son sleeping peacefully on the bed.
"He''s been mostly sleeping too," Elara replied.
Alexander stood, then used his Uncover skill on Ariel. A surprised smile spread across his face as he saw the results. "You are not going to believe this, but our little angel is a level twelve!"
"What? Really?" Elara exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Wow! She''s already an F-rank. Only a few days after birth! Our little angel is going to be strong, isn''t she?"
"Yes, as she should be," Alexander said, his gaze returning to his son. His expression, however, shifted to one of disappointment.
Elara noticed the change in his demeanor. "Don''t worry about him," she said softly. "He''s just a late bloomer, that''s all. In a few more years, he will automatically become stronger. He''ll be very strong and handsome, just like his father," she added with a smile.
Alexander didn''t smile. He looked at James, and above his head, the level one still stubbornly floated.
Chapter 48: The Embarrassment
James awoke to sunlight spilling into his room through slightly open curtains. He yawned, threw back the blankets, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Stretching languidly, he thought, *Oh right, today''s Ariel''s sixteenth birthday. That little brat''s probably going to get something amazing again.*
Leaving his room, he opened the door to find a maid standing in the hallway. "Good morning, sir," she said. "We have already prepared a bath for you."
"Good morning," James replied.
James proceeded to the bathroom, a spacious room crafted from polished dark wood, the air still warm from a previous bath. A young butler, barely older than himself, stood waiting, a neatly folded pile of clothes resting on one of the benches beside the large, empty wooden tub. The butler bowed slightly as James entered.
After his bath, James toweled himself dry and dressed in the clothes the butler had provided ¨C a simple but finely woven shirt and trousers. He then made his way to the main dining hall.
The hall was vast, dominated by a long, ornate table laden with an array of dishes. The air hummed with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of silverware. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the polished surface of the table and the rich tapestries that adorned the walls. His mother and father were already seated, and across from them sat Ariel, her long black hair cascading down her back. She looked up as he approached, a smug smile playing on her lips. James knew that look; it was the look of someone anticipating a lavish display of gifts and attention.
"James, darling, you''re late," his mother said, her voice gentle but laced with a hint of playful reprimand.
"Good morning, Mother, Father," James replied quietly, taking his seat.
"Happy birthday, Ariel," he mumbled, his gaze briefly meeting his sister''s before dropping to his plate. He knew the elaborate birthday ceremony held at the King''s castle the previous year had been a lavish affair, and he expected this one to be no different.
His father cleared his throat. "We held the main ceremony at the King''s castle, as is tradition, but I have a little surprise for you here, Ariel."
Ariel''s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. James picked at his food, his appetite diminished by the knowledge that he would need to return to his training regimen soon. He had never received many gifts, and the thought of the upcoming training session overshadowed the celebratory atmosphere. The conversation flowed around him, a mixture of polite pleasantries and excited chatter, but he remained largely silent, his mind already focused on the rigorous training that awaited him. He knew that even on his sister''s birthday, his responsibilities would not be put aside.
Their eyes met, and Ariel looked almost startled. James swallowed his food. "What?" he asked.
"Father," Ariel said, her voice a little too sharp, "did you see this? James has leveled up."
James looked at his father, who used a handkerchief to wipe his mouth before returning to his meal without comment. James turned back to his sister. "Oh yeah? What level am I? How many times did I level up?"
Ariel giggled, a slightly cruel sound. "Oh no, you''re only a level twenty."
A small smile touched James'' lips. "I''m a level twenty," he said quietly.
The celebratory atmosphere vanished. The expressions around the table turned serious. His father''s voice, low and controlled, held a sharp edge. "You''re happy about that?"
James hesitated. "No, no, I''m not. I was just surprised, that''s all."
"Good," his father said, his tone unwavering. "Because you shouldn''t be. In fact, I think you''ve had enough right now. You should quickly go to your training. I''m sure John is waiting for you in the training yard."
"Yes, of course," James replied, his voice barely a whisper. He stole a quick glance at his mother, her expression as serious and unreadable as always. The only times she smiled at him felt forced, just like his father''s rare displays of approval, always overshadowed by the overt joy they showed towards Ariel, the one expected to carry on the family legacy. He felt perpetually overlooked and underappreciated.
"Yes, Father," James said, wiping his mouth and leaving the dining hall. He headed towards the training grounds, the familiar weight of expectation settling on his shoulders. He¡¯d trained relentlessly since he was ten, yet he remained frustratingly weak. The son of Alexander Tyranny, with the blood of a hero coursing through his veins, and yet¡fragile. Each encounter with his father reinforced this painful reality. His father''s gaze, the unspoken disappointment, sometimes felt like a tangible weight, a burden of resentment.
He reached the vast backyard, a sprawling expanse of manicured lawn bordered by neatly trimmed hedges. The training area, a square field paved with large grey stone tiles, lay at its center. John, his trainer, stood waiting, holding two swords loosely in his hands. He tossed one towards James, retaining one for himself. James caught it effortlessly as he entered the field.
"Ah, young master," John said, his voice calm and steady. "I''ve been waiting."
"Remember what we practiced," John added, as James adopted a fighting stance.
Meanwhile, back at the dinner table, Ariel looked up at her father. "Father, is it alright if I train with James?"
Her father''s gaze shifted to Ariel, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Do you want to hurt your big brother?" he asked, his tone suggesting the answer was self-evident.
"No, it''s just that I''ve never really trained with him," Ariel said. "I''ve always trained with you. I just want to show him some of my skills. And maybe, you know, he will try harder to level up after witnessing them."
Her father looked at her and said, "Fine, but only this once."
Her mother interjected, "But wait, isn''t it too dangerous for them to spar? I mean, our son isn''t even an E-rank yet."
Alexander said, "It''s fine." He looked at his daughter. "You''ll go easy on him, won''t you?"
This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Ariel smiled. "Well, of course," she said, a grin spreading across her face as she rose from the table and headed towards the training grounds.
Meanwhile, James, training with John, felt his muscles begin to ache. He launched himself at John one last time. John redirected the attack, using his sword to deflect James''s and then sidestep, allowing James to rush past. With a swift movement, John struck James on the back of the head with his elbow.
James stumbled, clutching the back of his head. John shook his head, a look of exasperation on his face. "I told you not to just charge," he said. "Even when you feel overwhelmed, your skills become sloppy, and you start charging over and over again. I keep defeating you. When are you going to learn, young master?"
James turned, frustration evident in his voice. "How the hell do you expect me to learn while fighting a level ninety? Shouldn''t we have started with something lower and gradually moved up? I don''t think I''m going to learn anything at this point. You''ve taught me some moves, but that''s all. I''ve learned almost everything you''ve taught me. I mean, you''ve trained me since I was ten, but all of this doesn''t matter if I don''t get stronger or faster fast enough. I''m so freaking weak. I can''t even level up like other people. And yet I''m a descendant of the hero." He looked at John, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Is it really true that I''m my father''s son?"
Before John could answer, Ariel''s laughter cut through the air. "I can''t believe you''re struggling with such a weakling," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Well, it is expected, after all. Compared to him, you are nothing."
She unsheathed her sword, stepping into the training grounds a few feet away from both John and James. "I want to show you something, big brother," she continued. "You do realize all my training with Father was private, right? You''ve never actually seen them, you''ve never seen my skills. So, how about this? I''m going to easily defeat John for you, and then you can see what a descendant of the hero truly is like."
"What? That''s not¡ªwhat do you *want* here?" James said, annoyance filling his voice.
"What do you mean, ''what am I doing here''? I just told you," Ariel replied, a grin on her face. "Father gave me permission to come and train with you. Or train you, given that you''re as weak as always. When I saw John here, I thought maybe I could show you my skills by sparring with him."
"I don''t want to," James said flatly. "I don''t care about any of your skills."
The sentence hit Ariel like a punch in the gut. "You''ve got to be kidding me," she sputtered. "These are the same skills you''re training for, and you don''t care if I show them to you? John, I''ve heard training has been your profession for a long time now. Tell me, have you ever had such a stupid and pathetic student?"
"No, my lady," John quickly answered, surprising James. *Is he taking her side?* James thought.
"Hey, I am your big brother," James said, his voice tight with anger. "You should show some respect."
"Oh, really?" Ariel retorted, a mocking smile playing on her lips. "Prove it. Try beating me in a match, big brother¡"
James stormed towards her, his anger boiling over. Ariel waited, her mocking smile unwavering. John stepped in front of James, his back to his student. He looked at Ariel. "How about we go along with the first option you presented, my lady? Maybe if young master watches the match, he will be inspired to push himself harder to new levels."
Ariel giggled. "Ha, like that''s going to help with anything. Alright then, I accept the challenge." She pointed her sword at John as James stood behind him, simmering with frustration and a burning desire to prove his worth.
"Young master," John said, taking a battle stance, "it would be better if you stood a safe distance away from us."
James looked at his sister, and something felt profoundly different. An invisible flame, or something akin to it, seemed to emanate from her legs, engulfing her entire body. It was intangible, yet its fiery nature was unmistakable. * is what they call an aura?* he thought, then said aloud, "Alright, I will watch from over there."
He walked out of the training grounds and onto the grass, crossing his arms as he watched.
John looked at Ariel. "I''m sorry to ask this, my lady, but I''m a bit curious. What level are you currently?"
Ariel smiled. "I''m level one hundred and thirty-four."
James''s heart pounded. *One hundred and thirty-four?* he thought, stunned. *I knew she was always many levels above me, but when did she even reach one hundred? I''m pretty sure she was below one hundred a month ago. What kind of training was she going through with Father?*
John smiled. "All right, let our battle commence."
Suddenly, both Ariel and John vanished from James''s sight, reappearing instantly before each other, their swords clashing with a deafening clang. A shockwave rippled outwards from the impact, the sound ringing painfully in James''s ears. He stumbled back, momentarily shielding his eyes from the strong wind pressure release. " What is happening?"
James watched, his breath catching in his throat. John, a seasoned warrior, was being utterly dominated. The disparity was jarring. Ariel, seemingly slight and graceful, moved with a terrifying efficiency, her every parry precise and powerful. The clash of steel was a symphony of controlled violence, each parry a testament to her superior skill and speed. The initial slow, deliberate exchanges quickly escalated into a blinding flurry of motion. Steel shrieked against steel, sparks erupting like miniature stars in the afternoon sun, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The air itself vibrated with the force of their blows, a palpable tension hanging heavy in the air. James''s eyes struggled to follow the dance of death, the movements too fast, too fluid to track. He could only see fleeting glimpses of flashing steel and the occasional blur of motion as Ariel effortlessly deflected John''s attacks.
John, his face grim, leaped back, the ground screeching beneath his boots as he skidded to a halt. He braced himself, his grip tightening on his sword. He attacked with renewed ferocity, a series of powerful downward slashes, each blow imbued with the weight of his experience and desperation. Each blow was met by Ariel''s effortless parries, her movements economical and deadly. The rhythm shifted, the attacks becoming faster, more desperate. The air crackled with tension, the sounds of clashing steel punctuated by the sharp hiss of sparks. The scent of ozone filled the air, a byproduct of the friction between their blades.
Ariel''s grin widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Are you sure you''re a trainer?" she taunted, her voice barely audible above the clang of steel. "I''m going to show you something. I don''t think I even need two hands."
She released her sword, her hand falling casually behind her back.
John''s expression hardened. "Don''t take me lightly," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
He launched a ferocious attack. Then, muttering, "Burning Sword," his blade erupted in flames, becoming a fiery streak aimed at Ariel''s head.
Ariel smiled, swiftly retrieving her sword with both hands. She raised it in a smooth, practiced motion, intercepting John''s fiery slash with a resounding clang. The intense heat from the burning sword erupted against her, but an invisible, shimmering barrier¡ªa shield¡ªinstantly materialized, enveloping her completely. A wave of hot air rippled outwards, pushing against James with surprising force.
He winced, raising his hands to shield his face. *What kind of skill is that?* he thought, his mind reeling. He''d never used anything like that before.
Ariel pushed John''s sword away, forcing him to leap back. He launched a series of fiery slashes from a distance, the air itself seeming to crackle with heat. Ariel responded with a blur of motion, her sword a living extension of her will, twisting and turning with impossible speed, deflecting each fiery attack with balletic grace.
She then rested her sword on her palm, raising her arm slightly but not high in the air. "If you haven''t noticed," she said, her voice calm and devoid of any hint of exertion, "I haven''t used any of my skills yet."
Muttering the word, "Acceleration," she vanished. James barely registered the movement before she reappeared behind John, her sword dripping with blood. John fell to one knee, clutching his chest, a crimson stain blooming on his tunic.
Ariel turned, a scoff escaping her lips. "This is about the easiest battle I''ve ever fought. So this is a level ninety, huh? I must admit, it was pretty fun. Oh, do you want me to show you another skill I have?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement.
John grunted, struggling to his feet. "I''m sorry, my lady," he said, his voice strained, "but I don''t think my body can take any more of your skills."
Ariel giggled. "Fine, I''ll spare you this time." She whipped out a handkerchief, meticulously wiping the blood from her sword before sheathing it. "Oh, John," she said, stepping off the stone tiles of the training ground, "I want you to come here for a sec. I''m going to show you one of my skills, but don''t worry, it won''t harm you. It''s a very important skill. I should have warned you about it before we started."
John, wincing slightly as he placed a hand on his still-bleeding chest, replied, "Yes, ma''am," and followed her. A faint green glow emanated from his chest as his wounds rapidly closed.
James watched, utterly astonished. John had never used such healing skills during their training sessions. *Probably because he never needed to,* James mused.
Ariel, John, and James stood together. Ariel grinned, turning her back to James. She unsheathed her blade, raised her palm, and then, without hesitation, cut herself.
"My lady, please!" John exclaimed, his voice laced with alarm. "Don''t just cut yourself like that!"
Ariel looked at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. "What? Worried about me now? Stop putting on the act. I just want to show you my skill."
She tossed a few droplets of her blood onto the training ground. The instant the blood hit the stone tiles, a blinding red flash erupted in a devastating explosion. Stone tiles erupted into the air, pulverized into dust.
"I call it Blood Explosion," Ariel announced, her voice ringing with pride. "It''s a very unique skill. Even Dad doesn''t have it. It''s a great skill, don''t you think?"
"That is an extraordinary skill, my lady," John said, his voice awed. "So even if I managed to cut you, I would be extremely hurt in the process."
Ariel grinned. "That''s right," she said, "and these blasts won''t even affect me. I just didn''t want to use it to its full extent because, well, the training grounds are still useful."
The dust settled, revealing a sizable crater in the middle of the training area.
"Yeah," James said, "but you totally wrecked it."
Ariel turned to him, a challenging glint in her eyes. "So what about it, big brother? Do you want to take me on?"
James hesitated. "Um, yeah, I¡ I can take you on," he stammered.
Ariel''s annoyance was palpable. "You saw some of my skills. Are you sure you want to take me on?" she asked, her face serious.
"Yes," James said, his voice firmer than he felt. "I''m sure I want to take you on."
John looked at James, concern etched on his face. "But sir, I''d advise you not to go through with this. As you saw, she is way more powerful. She''s way stronger than me, and you cannot defeat me."
James shook his head, his resolve hardening. "I don''t care." He unsheathed his sword and stepped into the arena. "I''m going to try anything."
Ariel scoffed, but followed him into the arena.
As James held his sword, a tremor ran through his hands. *Why?* he thought, bewildered. *Why the hell am I trembling? She hasn''t even unsheathed her sword yet. She''s my sister, dammit, hold it together. She''s not going to kill me, right?*
Chapter 49: The End Before The Beginning
James''s hands trembled as he gripped the sword with both hands. Ariel unsheathed her own sword; the polished steel gleamed. James instinctively took a step back, his feet crunching on the broken stones. John watched, his expression grim. The thought crossed his mind: *Young master definitely isn''t ready for this.*
"Young master," John called out, his voice low and urgent, "this is definitely unwise. You shouldn''t face her." James shook his head, a stubborn refusal evident in the slight jerk of his head. He muttered a defiant "No," and charged forward.
Ariel met his attack with a chilling smile. "Pathetic," she said, the word a low, almost contemptuous whisper. With a swift, practiced movement, she kicked a loose rock from the nearby pile of rubble. The rock, propelled with surprising force, flew through the air, a small, deadly missile. It struck James''s right leg with a sickening thud, tearing through his flesh and leaving a ragged wound. A sharp cry of pain escaped James''s lips as he stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.
"Young master!" John shouted, immediately starting to run towards James.
Ariel raised her right hand, a simple gesture that somehow managed to halt John''s approach. "Stop right there," she commanded, her voice calm but firm. "Relax, I''m not going to kill him or anything." She then walked over to James, her expression unchanged. "You know, James," she said, her voice laced with a condescending sweetness that only served to amplify the insult, "this all could have been easier if you could use Light Heal. I mean, even people who don''t have our blood can use Light Heal. You''re even more pathetic than the normal people out there."
James grunted, pushing himself up with a visible effort, his sword still clutched tightly in his hands. "Shut up," he snarled, his voice thick with pain and a desperate attempt at defiance. He managed to regain his fighting stance, his body trembling with a mixture of pain, anger, and desperate resolve. He charged again, thrusting his sword towards Ariel''s chest with all his might. The sword pierced her, passing cleanly through her body and emerging from her back. James froze, astonishment etched on his face. *Why didn''t she dodge?* He looked at Ariel''s face, and a cold dread washed over him. She looked utterly emotionless, devoid of any sign of pain, a chilling mask of impassivity.
James released the sword and took a few steps back, his eyes widening as he stared at his sister''s face. She smiled. "What''s wrong?" she asked. "Why do you look scared? Is this not what you wanted?" With effortless grace, she slowly withdrew the sword from her chest. James watched, horrified, as the wound vanished, the flesh knitting itself back together seamlessly.
John observed, his thoughts a silent commentary: *Miss Ariel possesses impressive skills. She could easily win this with a single blow, holding back as she is. But why is she doing this? Why intimidate her brother so much? She''s taking this too far.*
Ariel looked at James. "You see," she said, her voice calm yet chilling, "even if you managed to hurt me, you still couldn''t win. We both know I let you do that. Guess what? Now it''s my turn."
She grasped both swords, and an invisible aura erupted from her legs, engulfing her completely. It was unseen, like invisible air or an invisible flame, but James felt it¡ªa palpable pressure, a chilling aura of power. He felt he was facing something inhuman, something far beyond his little sister. *What is she?* he wondered, the thought abruptly cut short.
Ariel moved with impossible speed, appearing before him as if she had teleported. Suddenly, James felt a searing pain in his chest. His shirt ripped open, revealing a bleeding wound. Blood welled, slowly dripping down his waist and onto his pants. He screamed, collapsing to his knees.
John stepped forward. "Miss Ariel," he said, his voice sharp with concern, "we have to stop this now. You''ve taken this too far."
John moved toward the training arena, but Ariel pointed a sword at him. "I said stop right there," she said, her eyes hardening. She turned her attention back to James, who groaned on the floor, losing blood.
"But my lady," John pleaded, "we have to treat him quickly."
Several maids emerged, their faces a mixture of shock and concern at the scene before them. Ariel glared down at her brother. "You''re pathetic," she spat. "I don''t know how many times I have to say this. Are you sure you''re my brother? Are you sure you''re not from some cheap orphanage? You don''t look a thing like me, and the thought that I''m related to someone like you makes me sick. You''re weaker than the commoners out there. You don''t deserve nobility."
"My lady, that''s enough," John interjected, stepping onto the training platform. He placed his hands on James''s back; they glowed green, and James began to heal. John then looked at Ariel. "If this continues, I''ll have to report this to your father."
Ariel clicked her tongue, her displeasure evident, and walked away from the platform. Without looking back, she tossed the sword she held onto the platform. It landed with a sharp *thunk* near James''s foot as he stood, tears streaming down his face. Maids approached Ariel. "My lady," one said, "we must prepare you for the celebration."
Okay. Here''s the revised passage incorporating that correction:
The maids and Ariel returned to the mansion. John knelt before James, his elbow resting on his raised knee. "Please forgive me, young master," he said. "I let her take things too far."
James wiped his tears. "No, it''s fine. It''s all my fault. I''m simply too weak." He chuckled humorlessly. "I deserve this humiliation. She''s right; I am weaker than the commoners, and I don''t think that''s ever going to change."
John stood up, shaking his head. "No, you''re wrong, young master." He placed a hand on James''s shoulder. "You haven''t learned any skills yet. How about I teach you some of what I''ve learned?"
"What?" James said, bewildered. "I''m so weak; I won''t be able to learn any skills."
John smiled. "That''s where you''re wrong." He turned, his back to James. "There are two skills I use that don''t require a high level to learn. As long as you''re above level 10, you can learn them."
"What? There are skills like that?" James exclaimed.
John turned back. "Did you see how I swang my sword? And the mana I released from it¡ªa form of wind magic, though not strictly. It''s similar; I used it with fire when I used the Burning Sword."
"Yeah, I saw that," James replied, his interest piqued.
"I''ll teach you these two skills," John said. "Slash and Pierce."
"Slash and Pierce," James repeated, the words sounding strange and unfamiliar on his tongue.
John nodded. "Yes, but I can''t teach you today. As you can see," he gestured around at the damaged training platform, "we''ll have to repair this first. It should be done by tomorrow. And you''re celebrating your sister''s birthday, yes?"
James looked down. "They''re celebrating my sister''s birthday, but I''m not. I have to get ready soon, or my father will start shouting at me."
"Yes, of course," John said. "Have a good day, young master."
James returned to the mansion. He went to the changing rooms where his butlers provided him with an appropriate outfit. Guests began to arrive¡ªvarious nobles and another family with the blood of heroes. Throughout the day, James kept his conversations brief. Some of the hero descendants looked at him and laughed; the rumor of the hero who couldn''t pass level 30 was well-known, bringing shame to his father and family¡ªa feeling that intensified with each passing birthday celebration.
Mid-celebration, James saw his sister receive another gift: beautiful armor crafted from dragonskin. She was overjoyed, but James felt no envy.
The celebration continued until nightfall. Bored, James went outside, heading straight for the training grounds.
He held a golden cup, taking a sip of its contents. He noticed the training platform was already repaired. *Well, that was fast,* he thought. Stepping onto the platform, he reflected, *I''ve trained since I was ten; it''s consumed most of my days. I''m used to it.* He looked at his hand. *It was already trembling, almost as if it wantedto hold a sword. I want to push myself further. I''m used to it; it''s almost an addiction¡ªan addiction to something that yields no results. Even thinking about Father makes my hand tremble.* He sighed. *I''ll just go inside, grab a sword, and train until I''m tired enough to sleep.*
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
The memory of his sister''s humiliation earlier that day flooded back. He gritted his teeth, squeezing the golden cup so hard his knuckles turned white. He released it with a sharp exhale. *Somehow, I have to get her back for that. One day.*
He returned to the mansion, then came back outside with a sword. He adopted a fighting stance, his focus narrowing to exclude the sounds of the celebration¡ªthe murmur of conversations, the clinking of plates and silverware, the laughter of possibly inebriated guests¡ªall fading into the background. He took a step, beginning to swing his blade, recalling John''s instructions. If he couldn''t increase his speed, he would master this perfectly. Until then, he would certainly become stronger.
Two years later.
Sunlight bathed the training grounds. James breathed heavily, sweat dripping from his brow as he held his sword. Clad in a white shirt and black pants, he roared, unleashing two slashes that aimed for John. John reacted swiftly, his sword rising to deflect one slash, then twisting to parry the other. "You''re getting better at this," John commented, charging forward, his sword descending in a swift, downward strike aimed at James''s shoulder. James parried the blow, their swords clashing. He groaned with the effort. John smiled. "You''ve definitely grown, my lord," he said, jumping back. "You seem better at using the skills I taught you, but something''s wrong. Are you distracted by your father joining the army to go to war?"
"Would it sound bad if I said no?" James asked.
John lowered his sword, the tip touching the ground. He placed both palms on the hilt. "Yes, that would be bad, my lord. After all, he is your father. But don''t worry; I''m sure he''ll return as always."
"Yeah, I''m sure he will too," James replied, adopting a fighting stance.
"I think that''s enough for today," John said. "Rest is important in training."
"Alright," James agreed, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he lowered his sword.
He sheathed his sword and stepped off the training grounds. As he turned toward the mansion entrance, he saw it: Ariel''s pet, a small, blue, three-headed dragon, about the size of an Elin. A gift for her eighteenth birthday, a promise their father had made when she was twelve. James usually didn''t envy Ariel''s gifts, but this one¡ this one sparked a flicker of envy.
He approached the dragon, which regarded him with three pairs of eyes. The middle head stared intently, almost frozen, while the others moved. The rightmost head gently nipped at the middle head''s neck, as if scratching it. The dragon''s height reached his kneecap. He walked past the dragon, opening the mansion door and stepping inside. *I swear that thing always pisses me off,* he thought. *She even got it to attack me a month ago; it hurt like hell.*
He spotted a butler. "Hey, butler," he called.
"Yes, my lord," the butler replied, hurrying to his side.
"I''m going to take a bath," James said. "Prepare some clothes for me, and I''ll eat afterward."
"Yes, my lord," the butler said. "Everything will be prepared immediately."
"All right," James said, heading down the hallway to his room.
He entered his room, sheathing his sword and hanging it on its usual place on the wall. He bathed and changed into fresh clothes before heading to the dining hall. There, he found his mother crying, Ariel standing beside her, stroking her mother''s golden blonde hair, tears streaming down her own face. Both women wore expressions of profound sadness.
James approached them, his concern evident. "What''s wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?"
Ariel looked at him, her eyes red and swollen. "It''s Father," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
James'' eyes widened. "What? What happened to Father?"
His mother looked at him, tears streaming down her face. "Your father¡ he passed away in the war," she managed to say, her voice choked with grief.
James'' heart pounded. "What? What do you mean? That can''t be possible. Father¡ Father died?"
Ariel shot him a sharp, angry glare. "Yes," she said, her voice tight with unshed tears. "He died. They were fighting kingdoms in the east. They couldn''t even retrieve his body¡ he was burned." Her voice cracked. "I told him! I told him I could go to war with him! I told him I could help! But he said I wasn''t ready! I told him I could fight! I told him I was strong enough! Stronger than he thought! But he wouldn''t let me¡ he wouldn''t let me¡" Her voice trailed off into sobs.
Her face pressed against James''s chest, the dampness of her tears seeping through his clothing. He continued to stroke her hair, a dull ache settling in his own chest. The grief was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on him, yet his eyes remained stubbornly dry. No tears came.
Ariel slowly lifted her head, her tear-streaked face tilted upward. Their eyes met. For a short moment, she held his gaze, her expression a mixture of grief and something else¡ a dawning suspicion. She saw the lack of tears, the stillness in his eyes, and a flicker of something akin to anger sparked in her own. With a deliberate movement, born of both sorrow and accusation, she pushed herself away from him. The force wasn''t violent, but firm, enough to send him reeling backward. He landed hard against the wall some twenty feet away, the impact stealing his breath. He gasped, coughing as he fell to his knees.
Their mother cried out, "What are you doing?"
Ariel pointed a trembling finger at James. "Mother, look! He''s not crying! What does that mean? He doesn''t even care about Father!"
Their mother rose to her feet, her voice strained with a mixture of grief and concern. "We both know that''s not true. James feels as much grief as you do, dear."
Ariel screamed, "Liar! We both know he always hated me and Dad! I''m sure you''re relieved he''s dead, aren''t you?" She took a step toward him, her body tense with barely controlled rage.
"Ariel, please, don''t," their mother pleaded. "Stop."
James looked at his sister, a faint, almost unsettling smile playing on his lips. The unexpected expression halted Ariel''s advance.
"Do you think I don''t feel pain because Dad died?" James said, his voice low and controlled. "Mother''s right. I am hurt. But she''s wrong about one thing. I''m not hurt as much as both of you are. If you think I should be, then you''re completely delusional. I''m sad that Father died, but not as much as you."
"Do you seriously expect me to miss him as much as you would? To miss *his* affection?" James''s voice was tight with bitterness. "Both of you¡ you''ve treated me like an embarrassment all these years!" His gaze flicked to his mother, his eyes starting to well with unshed tears. "Mother, you were complicit too! You expect me to miss him? The only memories I have are of his insults and the brutal training he forced on me! How am I supposed to think¡ how are *you* supposed to think¡ that he was a good father? You''re all complete idiots if you think¡ª"
His mother''s hand connected with his face before he could finish the sentence. She had been several feet away, yet she appeared before him instantly, the slap sharp and stinging. The impact sent a jolt through him, silencing his words.
"How dare you say that about your father!" she cried, her voice thick with anguish. "He loved you! He raised you! He only treated you that way because he wanted you to better yourself, to become stronger, for *yourself*!"
James stared into her eyes, a trickle of blood tracing a path from the corner of his mouth to his chin, a single crimson droplet falling to the floor.
"We both know he wanted me to be stronger *for him*," James said, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "I don''t blame him. We both know I''m this family''s curse." He let out a short, humorless laugh and walked away, heading back toward the training grounds.
His mother burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. "What have I done?" she sobbed.
Ariel watched them both, her anger simmering beneath her grief. She turned and followed James.
James reached the training grounds and stepped onto the platform. His hand began to tremble again. He grabbed it with his left hand, trying to still the shaking, but the tremor persisted. Then, the tears came, a torrent he couldn''t suppress. *Why am I crying?* he thought, his voice a bitter whisper in his mind. *I hate him. I don''t love him. I don''t love my father. But why do I cry? Stop crying, you idiot.*
John emerged from the shadows of the mansion. He''d heard the news and witnessed James''s silent breakdown. Joseph, his father, had always spoken highly of the Tyranny family, praising their kindness and generosity, especially the patriarch. He''d described him as a gentle man, despite his flaws. But John knew the truth about James''s father''s harsh treatment of his son. John had initially felt honored to be chosen to train the Tyranny heir, believing he would train a hero, one of the chosen. Seeing James crying now, however, filled him with a sense of failure. He knew James was still only level 29. His skills had improved dramatically, but his level remained stubbornly low. It was a mystery why this particular hero, seemingly blessed by the goddess, progressed so slowly. They had even gone to the expense of procuring a high-ranked monster to test a theory¡ªthat killing such a creature would trigger a significant level increase¡ªbut James had only leveled up once after the ordeal.
Bringing a very high-ranked monster into the kingdom was forbidden, so they had settled for one of a lower, yet still considerable rank¡ªD to C, considered high-ranked by James''s standards, a concession granted by the king to James''s father.
John began walking toward the training platform. Suddenly, a furious shout ripped through the air¡ª "James!"
James turned to see Ariel striding toward him, her face contorted with rage, a sword clutched in her hand. "Take it back!" she demanded, her voice tight with fury. "Take back everything you said about Father, right now!"
James wiped his tears. "What?"
Then, everything happened in a blur. One moment Ariel was several feet away; the next, she was gone. John stood before James, but something was terribly wrong. John''s back was to James, a sword protruding from his chest. The tip of the blade had also grazed James.
James stumbled back, realizing John had taken the blow meant for him. A drop of blood trickled from John''s eye and the corner of his mouth. He smiled, a grim, pained expression. "It seems you used a cursed attack," he said, his voice strained. "My body will be poisoned; I won''t be able to heal."
Ariella''s face was inches from John''s, her eyes wide with shock and horror.
"But please, milady," John gasped, his blood splattering onto Ariella''s face, "don''t kill young Master James. He is your brother. It''s not his fault."
With a final, shuddering cough, John collapsed, dead.
A cry tore from James''s throat. He knelt beside John, shaking him frantically. "John, John, John, wake up!" he screamed, tears streaming down his face. The sight only fueled Ariel''s rage.
"You''re not able to cry for Dad," she said, her voice low and dangerously quiet, "but you can cry for this man? I don''t even know this man! He wasn''t my trainer. My father was my trainer. This man was only yours, and you can cry for him and not Father? You disgust me. You are not my brother."
With a swift, brutal movement, she swung her sword, the blade slicing toward James''s eye. James screamed in agony as he instinctively shielded his face.
"Stop screaming," Ariel commanded, her voice cold and hard. She repeated the order, her tone sharper, more menacing. Then, with a brutal kick to the head, she rendered him unconscious.
The servants and maids, who had witnessed the entire horrifying scene, stood frozen in fear.
Ariel''s gaze swept over them, her face stained with blood. "Why didn''t you help?" she demanded, her voice laced with lethal threat. The servants trembled.
"Ah, that''s right," she said, a chilling smile playing on her lips. "Because you knew I''d kill you, didn''t you?"
She turned back to James. "James, take him. Clean him up and return his body to his family. Let them know he died for disobeying orders." She looked at her brother again, her eyes filled with icy contempt. "This one is no longer my brother."
*I have to find a way to get rid of him without Mother noticing,* she thought, her mind already plotting. *Honestly, he makes me sick.*
She turned and walked away, disappearing into her chambers.
Hours later, James awoke. He blinked, a hand instinctively going to his eye¡ªa cloth bandage covered it. He was in the middle of nowhere, under a night sky thick with stars. It was the dead of night. His sword was sheathed at his hip; beside him lay a bag containing a waterskin and a pouch of gold coins. *Where am I?* he thought, looking around at the seemingly endless expanse of grassland bathed in the pale light of the moon.
He felt a burning thirst and opened the waterskin, taking a long drink. The events of earlier that night flooded back¡ªAriel''s fury, the near-fatal attack, John''s death. The image of his trainer, the man who had known him for ten years, lying lifeless, brought a fresh wave of grief. A single tear, hot and heavy with sorrow, traced a path down his cheek.
He stood, his mind struggling to make sense of his situation. *I have to go back,* he thought, but which way? He looked left, then right. In the distance, he saw the silhouettes of mountains. *I''m still in the south,* he realized, *but where exactly?*
A more profound question settled in his mind: *Do I really want to go back home?* The thought of Ariel sent a tremor through him, a familiar shaking in his hand, the same tremor that used to plague him when he thought of his father. The similarity frightened him. He shook his head. " I.... I cant go back there. "
*(Now)*
Tyler looked at Grone, a flicker of empathy crossing his face as he felt the weight of the other man''s pain. Grone continued, his voice low and measured. "And after that, when I headed towards the mountains, I managed to run into a road. I followed it to a village, got some supplies, and started traveling. The gold my sister gave me¡ª200 gold coins¡ªwas a lot. I thought she''d leave me to die. From there, I reached a town and became a registered hunter. That''s where I met Lisa, my wife."
"Yeah, about that," Tyler said, "I also found out Lisa''s level¡ª144. But how¡ª"
Grone interrupted. "How come *I''m* the hunter while she stays at home? Well, she can''t really use advanced spells anymore. That''s her story to tell, though. She''s very strict about me telling other people things like that. And I don''t blame her. If people found out I''m the hero who vanished a long time ago, I''d be in big trouble. They''d start looking for me."
"Why?" Tyler asked. "Didn''t they just kick you out?"
"If you''d been paying attention," Grone said, a hint of weariness in his voice, "I said my sister¡ I think my sister threw you out without Mother knowing. And when you told me my daughter is leveling up so fast¡ I was shocked. It confirms I''m my father''s son. She has the hero''s blood, too. But¡ I wish it never happened."
Chapter 50: More To Learn
The sun bled across the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and red. Long shadows stretched from Grone and Tyler as they sat, the silence heavy between them. A sigh escaped Grone''s lips, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of years. He stood abruptly, the movement jarring in the stillness. "Well, time certainly flew by, didn''t it? I told you it was going to be a long story. Let''s head back," he said, his voice rough around the edges, a stark contrast to the vibrant sunset.
Tyler, his gaze fixed on the ground, felt a familiar ache in his chest. The weight of Grone''s story pressed down on him, a heavy cloak of sorrow. He pushed himself up, his movements slow and deliberate, each muscle protesting the effort. He needed a moment, just a moment, to process the raw emotion that had been laid bare.
Grone noticed Tyler''s somber expression. "What''s with the long face all of a sudden? Don''t worry about it. It all happened in the past. I''ve moved on. I don''t have anything to do with my family anymore. To them, I''m as good as dead," Grone said, his voice softer now, tinged with a weary acceptance. He placed a hand briefly on Tyler''s shoulder, a gesture of comfort, before stepping away. The touch, though fleeting, carried a surprising warmth.
Grone turned to face the setting sun, his silhouette stark against the fiery sky. A small, almost hesitant smile touched his lips. He then turned back to Tyler. "Let''s go," he said, the words carrying a lightness that belied the gravity of his confession.
Tyler managed a weak smile in return. The sadness lingered, a persistent undercurrent, but Grone''s resilience, his ability to find a smile even after such pain, offered a flicker of hope. He fell into step beside Grone.
"Don''t forget what you said earlier," Grone reminded him, his voice gentle. "You promised to tell your story. It would only be fair."
Tyler nodded, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Right," he murmured, the words barely audible above the whisper of the wind. The weight of his own past, the burden of his family''s expectations, pressed down on him. He began to speak, his voice low and hesitant, the story of his life unfolding in the fading light.
*********
Back in Hector''s shop, the blacksmith meticulously organized his tools, placing them neatly into a metal container before snapping the lid shut. He approached the counter where Emily stood, seemingly lost in thought.
"Hey, I''m closing up shop," Hector announced.
Emily looked up, startled slightly. "Oh, alright," she replied, moving around the counter.
Hector reached into his pocket, producing a single silver coin. He handed it to Emily. "You''ll be receiving one silver coin a day for your hard work. But don''t worry, this is just the start. If you work hard, I''ll keep giving you a raise¡ªone more silver coin each time I feel you''ve earned it."
Emily looked up at Hector, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she said softly.
"You''re welcome," Hector replied. "We have to leave now that I''m closing."
"Yes, of course," Emily said, exiting the shop and stepping out into the street, now bathed in the warm, reddish-orange glow of the setting sun.
Hector locked the door, slipping the black metal key into his pocket. He turned to Emily, a thoughtful expression on his face. "By the way, do you have a place to stay?"
Emily looked at him, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "Oh, no, don''t worry, sir. I''ll¡ I''ll stay at an inn tonight."
"Alright. You take care now," Hector said, and with a nod, he left.
"Oh, right," Emily thought, remembering something. *Sir Tyler gave me some money to buy some clothes. I wanted to do that after work, so I guess I''ll buy some food after I get some new clothing.*
Meanwhile, Tyler and Grone stood on the main road. Tyler let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "In the end, I found myself here, in another world, totally different from my own."
Grone looked at him, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Looks like we have something in common."
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Tyler looked up, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Grone said, his voice softening, "you said you never managed to make your parents proud. You said you never felt or saw a genuine smile directed at you from your mother. And it''s the same with me. The last time I saw her, she was crying, and it was all my fault." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "That''s one thing we share in common."
Tyler looked down, a shadow falling over his face. Grone gently placed a hand on Tyler''s shoulder. "But don''t worry about it. Don''t let those things wear you down. All of that is in the past. It''s true that the past can haunt us, but the future heals. You''re trying to be a better man now, aren''t you?"
Tyler nodded, a hint of determination in his voice. "Yes, I am."
"And as far as I can see," Grone said, his voice warm with genuine approval, "there really isn''t a problem at all. You may turn out to be the best hunter I''ve ever known. You can stand on your own two feet now. And because I''ve helped you, when I look at you, I smile, seeing the kind of man you are becoming. You don''t have to feel like a burden anymore because you''re not one."
Tyler looked at Grone, his eyes welling up, though no tears fell. "Yeah, right. Thank you. And I wanted to tell you something¡ªI''ve always wanted to thank you, you know? I wanted to pay you back for everything you''ve done."
Grone smiled warmly. "You don''t have to worry about that. You can take your time."
Tyler hesitated, then spoke firmly. "Well, since I can provide for myself now, I don''t think I should be staying with you anymore."
A look of surprise crossed Grone''s face. "Wait, so you mean you''re not staying with us anymore?"
Tyler nodded. "Yes. I''m sorry to say this, but I''m going to find my own place to stay. And I found a way to make some money at Hector''s shop. I''ll gather some of that money and pay you back. But right now, I''ll just have to go hunt and get stronger so I can hunt more monsters and make more money from the system."
Grone looked at Tyler silently for a moment, still pondering the meaning of "the system." He sighed. "Alright, I totally understand, but you don''t have to be selfish. You have to come by one last time, so my wife and daughter can say their goodbyes, alright?"
"Yes, right," Tyler said with a genuine smile.
As they spoke, a wagon appeared down the road. Tyler and Grone climbed aboard, heading back to town. During the journey, Tyler posed a question. "Hey Grone, do you know anything about an Adas tree and where I can find one?"
Grone considered this. "An Adas tree? Yeah, I know about them. They''re mostly found in monster zones.
"Can I find them at the monster zones near the Crossroads base? Because I really need one for something," Tyler asked urgently.
Grone stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I''m not really sure. I''ve heard of people spotting them there, but it''s really rare at the Crossroads base. It would be easier to find them somewhere else. But I don''t recommend going there at your current rank. The monsters there are way more dangerous than the ones at Crossroads."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, confused. "Do they have a higher level than the ones at Crossroads?"
"No," Grone explained. "It''s a bit similar, but different. How shall I put this? You know about Slimes, right? And Dracos? If we made a level one Slime and a level one Draco fight, which one do you think would win?"
Tyler pondered this. "The Draco?"
"Why do you say that?" Grone asked.
"Well," Tyler replied, "it looks stronger."
"Exactly," Grone said. "Just because they''re the same level doesn''t mean they have equal strength. There are monster zones with monsters similar to insects and animals, and then there are monster zones with humanoid monsters."
Tyler''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait, what do you mean by humanoid monsters?"
"Well," Grone explained, "monsters that look human, but aren''t human at all."
"There are monsters like that?" Tyler asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
"Yes, they are," Grone confirmed. "They''re found in different monster zones. Oh, and I may have to apologize for not telling you this earlier. We categorize monster zones in three ways, based on how dangerous they are: yellow, orange, and red. You''re currently hunting in yellow zones, but then there are orange zones¡ªmore dangerous, often with humanoid monsters¡ªand then red zones, with monsters as powerful as dragons."
Tyler considered this information. "So, are you saying the Adas tree is mostly found in orange zones, or the red ones?"
"Oh, orange," Grone replied. "That''s where they''re mostly spotted."
"Okay, then," Tyler said. "But what rank do you think I should be able to go to a orange, or even a higher-ranked monster zone?"
"It''s recommended that hunters be C-rank and above," Grone answered. "Though most C-ranks stick to lower-difficulty zones, like myself."
"Well, they must be pretty tough then," Tyler commented.
"Yes, they absolutely are," Grone agreed. "I won''t go there until I''m a C-plus rank. They say the materials from orange-tier zones are expensive and fetch a higher price."
"Alright then," Tyler said, "I guess I''ll just have to keep hunting at the Crossroads base until I become a C-rank."
"That isn''t such a bad idea," Grone agreed. "Now that you know a bit more about monsters, I think I should tell you a bit more about hunters."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "A bit more about hunters? Didn''t you tell me all of it?"
Grone chuckled. "No, I thought it would be a bit too much. There are more different kinds of hunters. Hunters aren''t that different, really; they fall into the same category but are kind of different, like how I told you about warriors¡ªwithin warriors, we have archers and swordsmen, you know, things like that."
"So, people who use different weapons?" Tyler clarified.
"Exactly," Grone said. "But it''s a bit more different than that. You see, there are knights, archers, and then there are other hunters like berserkers. These are similar to tank-type hunters, only more powerful. It''s said that when a tank-type hunter reaches A+ rank, they become berserkers. They become much stronger and more durable. And the most terrifying thing about them is that they get stronger the more they fight; they have far more stamina than any other type of hunter. They can beat mages, assassins, and others on stamina alone."
Tyler was clearly impressed. "Whoa, that''s a really big advantage."
"So the longer they fight, the stronger they become," He summarized.
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "So fighting a berserker for too long is close to suicide. You''d want to take them down before they surpass you. Berserkers can be the strongest hunters around."
"All right," Tyler said, "so what about the other hunters? What do you have to do to take them down? I mean, their weaknesses."
Grone smiled, a hint of impressed amusement in his eyes. "Well then, I''ll tell you about each one and how to fight them. With archers, it''s very simple: distance. The more distance they have, the more dangerous they are. You just have to get in close."
Grone proceeded to explain the strengths and weaknesses of various hunter types, detailing strategies for combating each one. Tyler listened intently, absorbing the information, until the wagon finally arrived in town. They paid the driver and set off toward Grone''s home.
"We''re back," Grone announced upon entering.
Grone''s wife, Lisa, emerged from the kitchen. "Good evening. I was just about to make dinner."
Tyler''s eyes lingered on Lisa for a moment, and she noticed, causing him to look down. Lisa continued with her preparations. Grone went to his daughter, lifting her into his arms. The little girl giggled and said, "Papa," a word that surprised Tyler, as he hadn''t heard her speak before.
Chapter 50.1: Monsters and Kills
Monsters Killed
Hexhorn: 7
Crimson wolf: 2
shadow claw: 4
slimes: 29
slither: 2
Elin: 1
Gloomfang: 4
Shadow walker: 1
Brolin:1
Lurker:1
Monster killed: 51
Monster we know
Shadow Claw: A cute but deadly creature resembling a rabbit, except its fur is dark black, and it has glowing red eyes that intensify in moonlight. It emits a shriek when attacking. Skills: Shadow Claw, Shadow Step.
Slither: An eel-like creature with a cream-white color, slithering like a snake. It is eyeless and possesses long, sharp, yellow teeth. Its size and length increase with level. It has no listed skills.
Gloomfang: A dog-like creature with blue fur, blue eyes, and black claws. Its size does not change with level increases. Skill: Rush.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Elin: A bird-like creature nearly identical to an eagle, but larger and possessing a third eye in the center of its forehead. Skills: Cyclone Wing, Zoom.
Craven: A blue bird, approximately the size of a fully grown rooster, with an owl-like appearance. Skill: Lighten.
Drako: A large green lizard with smooth, scaleless skin, a powerful jaw, black eyes, and a red, forked tongue. Skill: Claw.
Pixel: A bird resembling a peacock but with long flamingo-like legs. Its plumage is blue from the head to the waist, transitioning to a different color from the waist to its legs. It possesses wings that abruptly and continuously shift colors. Skills: Hypnotize, Sonic Pulse.
Slime: A gelatinous, round creature with a slimy texture. Slimes can absorb each other, resulting in increased size, level, and durability. Skill: Bash.
Crimson Wolf: A wolf-like creature with predominantly red fur, accented by white fur on its chest. Regardless of level, its lifespan and HP remain low; however, its attack power increases significantly with each level, as does its size, up to a certain limit. Skills: Red Rush, Claw.
Hexhorn: A warthog-like creature with six horns and thick, tough hide that is difficult to penetrate. It is brown in color and has a diet consisting of grass and fruits. Hexhorns are aggressive towards both humans and other creatures. Their size and toughness increase with level. Skill: Charge.
Lurker: An eel like creture that lives in water. Has blue scaly skin and black eyes. Skill: Surge.
Shadow Walker: Similar To a shadow walker the Shadow walker looks like is rabbit with soft black fur and red eyes that gleam in the moonlight. It is slightly taller than the Shadow claws. It has more teethe than shadow claws as well that which are pointy. It is very very fast and slightly stronger than the shadow claws. Skills: Shadow Step, Shadow Den, Shadow Strike.
Boss Monster. The Shadow Walker: A creature resembling a rabbit yet far exceeding its innocent guise, possesses soft, black fur and eyes like rubies, gleaming fiercely in the moonlight. Taller and more powerfully built than the Shadow Claws, its numerous, needle-sharp teeth hint at a predatory nature. Its speed is unmatched, a blur of motion, and its strength surpasses even that of the Shadow Claws. Skills: Shadow Step, Shadow Den, Shadow Strike.
Brulin: A heavily armored creature, roughly the size of a small dog, resembling a pangolin compressed into a squat, cannonball-like form. Its body is encased in plates of reddish-brown copper, polished to a dull sheen. This rigid carapace covers its back and sides, leaving only its underbelly vulnerable. Lacking a neck, its head blends seamlessly into its armored torso. When threatened, it curls into a near-perfect sphere, its copper plates interlocking for defense. Known for its powerful Bash Skill.
Chapter 51: Dawn Of The Day
Tyler looked at Heather in Grone''s arms. "Wait a minute, she can talk?"
Grone chuckled. "Well, yes, of course. She''s three years old, after all."
"Oh," Tyler said, a little embarrassed. "I''m just surprised. I''ve never heard her talk before."
"Oh, yeah, about that," Grone explained. "She''s always been quiet around strangers or guests. She''s always been like that, but once she gets used to people, she acts normal, even when they''re around."
"Oh, that makes sense," Tyler said, nodding.
Grone looked at his daughter and smiled. "How are you, little one?"
Heather responded, her words slightly slurred, "Amf fine. Howa you papa...?"
Tyler''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. *She can form full sentences? Not gonna lie, it sounds kinda¡ cute,* he thought.
"You want to hold her?" Grone offered.
Tyler extended his hands, but Heather clung to her father, murmuring, "mmh mmh," clearly reluctant.
"Yeah," Tyler said with a chuckle, "turns out she''s not used to me yet."
"Don''t worry, she''ll come around," Grone reassured him.
Grone and Tyler sat down at the table. Grone leaned forward, his expression serious. "I wanted to ask you something. About your skills. Are all your skills related to crafting, or do you have combat skills?"
Tyler looked at Grone. "Oh, I only have crafting skills. They''re the kind that don''t use mana, but¡"
Before Tyler could continue, Grone interrupted.
"Wait, what do you mean by skills that don''t use mana?" Grone asked, leaning forward.
"Some of my skills don''t use any mana at all," Tyler explained. "Actually, all my crafting skills don''t use mana. The only ones that use mana are the ones I acquire from the items I craft¡ªthe ones I get from using weapons crafted from monster materials or others with special effects."
Grone nodded thoughtfully. "Right, you told me something similar to this. But when we were sparring earlier, something happened. While we were training, your eyes seemed to glow. And each time, it felt like your strength increased. Kind of similar to a berserker, but not at all, because your strength didn''t increase as the fight went on. It only increased at that moment, as if when your eyes glowed, you were using your full strength."
"Wait, what do you mean?" Tyler asked, genuinely confused.
"You don''t know this? Your eyes seemed to glow every time you used all your strength. At least, that''s what it looked like when we were sparring."
"No, I had no idea," Tyler admitted. "So every time I used all my strength, my eyes glowed?"
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "It seemed to happen every time your strength almost matched mine. And I have to say again, you''ve really grown in such a short time. It hasn''t even been a month since you got here, and you''re already D-rank. Someone might say you''re leveling up like a hero."
Tyler looked down, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. "Well, I wouldn''t call myself that."
"If anyone knew what level you were when you came to this world, they''d call you that," Grone said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Reaching level 40 in less than a month is something a hero would do. And, in a way, you''re even stranger, because you said you have skills that don''t use any mana¡ªsomething I''ve never heard of."
Grone paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There''s something I don''t really get."
"What is it?" Tyler asked.
"You keep talking about something called ''the system''," Grone said. "I wanted to ask you what it is, but I got confused every time you explained it. And why do you call it a system?"
Tyler took a deep breath. "Well, I call it the system because it''s kind of like a game system. You see, in my world, we used to play games¡ªfighting games where a character would kill monsters or people to get stronger. They''d have stats, just like I do. And ironically, every time I call it ''the system,'' it appears as if that was already its name. So I think ''system'' is a better name to call it. And I''m the only one who can see it, which is a big advantage. It has an inventory where I can put my items and things."
Grone considered this for a moment. "Let me get this straight. If you had a lot of materials to craft items with, you could craft a lot of items without running out of mana?"
Stolen story; please report.
"Yes," Tyler confirmed.
Grone leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well," he said, "that''s a very unique skill you have there."
"I''m not even sure if I should call it a unique skill," Grone mused, "because even unique skills use mana."
Tyler and Grone continued their discussion, delving deeper into the mechanics of their respective abilities and how they functioned. Time passed, and Lisa placed a steaming meal on the table. They sat down and ate together.
Meanwhile, Emily clutched a worn leather bag filled with clothes¡ªthe cheapest she could find, yet somehow appealing to her. *I wonder what Sir Tyler will think of this,* she mused, then quickly shook her head. *No. What am I thinking?* she chided herself. "I don''t know if this is luck or not," she whispered to herself, "but I''m just glad I can work on this side of town. On the other side, at the other marketplace, people will recognize me, and they won''t accept me there. Anyways, I''m just glad I was able to find a job. I was able to run into *him*. Who would have thought a person like him even existed?" A small smile touched her lips. "For him to help me this much, while he didn''t even know me ¡ and he literally found me a job. This is¡ this is life-changing." The smile remained as she continued on her way to the inn.
Back at Grone''s house, Tyler finished his meal. He stood up, stretching. "Oh yeah, I''m going to rest now."
"Wait, already?" Grone asked, surprised.
"Yes," Tyler said, yawning. "I''m really tired. I mean, I''ve been hunting all day, and I sparred with you earlier."
"My body needs rest right now," Tyler explained.
"Alright," Grone said. "Well then, have a good night''s sleep."
Lisa smiled at Tyler. "Good night." Heather, meanwhile, was happily distracted, playing with Grone''s necklace on the floor.
Tyler mumbled a good night, then paused, remembering something. He glanced toward the kitchen. *Right, I haven''t made those potions yet. But¡ do I have to make them now?* He sighed, then turned toward the kitchen.
He found some water barrels in the corner. Opening one, he opened his palm; a shimmering light appeared, and a vial materialized in his hand. He took a cup and poured water into the vial before the vial vanished back into his inventory. "Craft healing potion," he muttered. The system panel appeared, quickly displaying: *Crafting successful*.
Tyler opened his palm again; the vial reappeared, now filled with a shimmering potion. "Right, guys, I wanted to show you something," he announced, returning to the table.
"What is it?" Grone asked, intrigued.
"I have a skill called alchemy," Tyler explained, "and it allows me to craft potions."
Lisa raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Potions?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed. "I asked Grone if he knew anything about alchemy, and he said he didn''t."
Lisa nodded. "Yeah, I''ve never heard of it before either."
"Huh," Tyler said. "Well, I wanted to show you what it does."
"This liquid I have," Tyler explained, holding up the vial, "is called a potion. This is a health potion, although it''s a weak one. If I drink this, it''ll restore 30% of my health. So if I have 100 health, it''ll give me back 30."
Lisa looked utterly bewildered. "I don''t understand what you''re talking about. What do you mean by ''100 health''?"
Tyler touched his forehead, realizing his mistake. "Oh¡ I forgot that¡ªAnyways, what I''m saying is, it''ll heal you a little. Think of it as medicine, but liquid, and magically it''ll heal minor wounds, not fatal ones. Here, watch this."
Tyler placed the potion on the table and went to the kitchen, returning with a knife. He brought the knife''s edge to his wrist.
"Wait, what are you doing?!" Lisa exclaimed, alarmed.
Grone also spoke, "Hey, you don''t have to cut yourself!"
Tyler stopped, looking sheepish. "Oh yeah, right, sorry. Why the hell would I pick a kitchen knife?" He sheathed the knife and used his own fingernail to scratch his wrist hard enough to leave a pinkish bruise.
"Stop hurting yourself!" Lisa protested.
"Wait," Tyler said, grabbing the potion. He quickly drank it down. A faint greenish glow emanated from his skin for a split second, and the bruise on his wrist vanished. Lisa and Grone stared, clearly surprised.
"You see?" Tyler said, grinning. "It''s similar to a healing skill, only this does it for you without needing mana. Anyone can use it."
"Anyone can use it?" Lisa echoed, surprise still evident in her voice.
Grone nodded slowly. "And you said this skill of yours is called alchemy?"
"Yes," Tyler confirmed. "I wanted you to know about it. And I thought it would be a good idea if we started selling these at Hector''s shop."
Grone''s expression turned serious. "Well, yeah, that would be a great idea, but you''re going to get a lot of attention from this."
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, tilting his head.
"Well," Grone explained, "no one has ever created something like this. The fact that it doesn''t need mana and can heal small wounds¡ every hunter in the kingdom, when they hear about this, will want it. They''ll want you to mass-produce it. Most people who''ve made significant medical breakthroughs are rewarded by kings themselves. But with *this* breakthrough, you''ll be recognized by everyone throughout the land."
Tyler looked thoughtful. "Huh, I didn''t know it would bring that much benefit. Well, I was planning on selling it after I move out tomorrow, but probably next month."
Lisa''s voice was soft, laced with concern. "You''re moving out tomorrow?"
Tyler nodded. "Yes."
"Is it because of what I said?" Lisa asked, her voice tinged with guilt. "Don''t take it to heart, I was just¡"
Tyler interrupted gently. "No, it''s fine. I was planning on moving out anyway. I mean, I don''t have to stay here. Grone just happened to help me, and I said I would pay him back, but if I stay here, I don''t think I''ll be able to do that. I wanted to stay one more night so I could say my goodbyes before I leave tomorrow."
Tyler suddenly bowed his head. "I want the both of you to know that I will always be eternally grateful for what you''ve done for me, and I will forever be in your debt." He straightened up, his expression resolute. "But believe me when I say this, I will try my hardest to pay you back. I will hunt and I will make sure to repay every single coin you''ve spent on me¡ªwith interest."
Lisa and Grone smiled warmly in return.
"Well," Tyler said, "I really have to go and rest now."
Grone chuckled. "Yeah, right. Good night."
Lisa smiled gently. "Sleep well."
Tyler smiled back, then went to his room. He sat on his bed and unequipped the Gloom armor. The system panel appeared, and he checked his stats.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: D
LVL: 40
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 165/165 MP: 158/158
STR: 152 AGI: 150
DEF: 204 STM: 148
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy, Accessory Craft
Equipped Skills: Rush - MC 17
Tyler thought, *Should I have told them about the virality thing? Nah, it''s probably fine. I don''t think they need to know about virality right now. The main thing it helps with is health, anyway, right?* *I''m gonna have to drink a lot of potions in the morning to increase my HP. Anyways, I really have to sleep.*
He looked at the roof, his eyelids slowly closing. The night sky twinkled above him, the stars gradually fading as the first light of dawn appeared. Tyler opened his eyes, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched. "Alright," he yawned, "it''s time to head out."
He opened the door and found Grone standing in the sitting room. "Good morning," Tyler said.
"Good morning," Grone replied. Tyler rubbed his eyes. "I''m going to take a bath."
"Oh, right," Grone said. "I already finished preparing."
"Yeah, right. I''ll be out in a sec," Tyler said, heading to the bathroom. He filled the tub with water and bathed. Emerging refreshed, he immediately equipped his Gloom armor. He felt a nagging sense that his armor''s durability was low after extended use. *I have to craft some more armor,* he thought. *Oh yeah, right, I''m gonna have to do this before I leave.* He went to the water barrel, filled his potion vial, and placed it in his inventory.
He checked his inventory and saw he still had six slime cores. "Craft three vials," he instructed the system. The crafting panel appeared, the loading bar filling almost instantly. Within seconds, the system announced: Crafting successful. Tyler filled the three new vials with water and added them to his inventory, bringing his total to four. He took one, drank it, and the system panel displayed: +2 HP, +Virality. He then methodically repeated the process¡ªfilling a vial, crafting a potion, drinking it¡ªagain and again.
Grone entered the kitchen. "What are you still doing?" he asked.
"Oh, I was creating these potions," Tyler replied, filling one last vial and adding it to his inventory. "Craft potion," he murmured to the system. "Let''s go."
"Alright," Grone said, opening the door.
Tyler followed Grone out of the house. As they walked, Tyler glanced at Grone''s blind eye. *I thought of giving him this potion to heal his eye,* he mused, *but this thing only heals about 30%. Wait a minute¡ would it work if I actually gave it to him?*
Suddenly, the system panel appeared before him, interrupting his thoughts: Achievement Unlocked: Drink 20 potions. Reward: +10 HP.
Chapter 52: Crossroads Convergence
As Grone and Tyler walked, Tyler discreetly checked his stats. He was surprised to see his HP had increased to 200 from drinking the twenty potions, even though it had been full beforehand. Passing Hector''s shop, still closed for the day, he found his thoughts drifting to Emily. *I wonder where she is right now,* he mused. *Did she even have a place to stay, or did Hector let her sleep in the shop? No, I don''t think he would. He doesn''t even trust her. Hell, I don''t trust her that much either. But somehow¡ when I''m around her, she feels innocent for some reason. Maybe that''s just me being dumb. But if I did the same thing I did in my world. Mike would probably yell at me and call me stupid.* He sighed, looking at Grone.
Grone, noticing Tyler''s pensive silence and the constant glances his way, asked, "What''s wrong?"
"I was just wondering," Tyler said, "since this potion heals minor wounds, if it could heal your eye."
Grone shook his head. "Hmm, I don''t think it could. You said it''s for minor wounds, right? Well, this cut is really deep. I was just lucky to survive; her sword grazed the bone. Which is strange¡ it implies she used, or maybe someone used, light healing on me. And even if I drank it, I don''t think it would heal. It was a cursed attack. You can''t really heal from those kinds of attacks, even with magic skills."
"I don''t understand what exactly cursed attacks are," Tyler said.
Grone explained, "Cursed attacks are used by people who are level 100 and above. If a cursed attack hits you, you can''t use any healing skill to regenerate your wounds for a long time¡ªhours, usually. So if it''s a fatal wound, you could bleed out in those hours, obviously leading to death. Cursed attacks can be used by anyone above level 100, any kind of hunter, really. But they can''t use it all the time. Think of it as having a cooldown; it only lets you use it once or twice a day. Specifically, every 21 hours, but only once or twice depending on your luck, I guess. My sister could use it twice, and some heroes could use it twice, but there''s never been anyone who could use it three times. The place a cursed attack hits corrupts the person''s cells. They won''t regenerate, and mana won''t flow to that area. It''s a type of skill we also call dark magic or dark-based skills because it originated from the Demon God."
Tyler frowned. "Wait, but I thought you said only the Goddess gave humans magic? What do you mean it originated from the Demon God?"
Grone looked at Tyler as they walked. "Tyler, you need to understand. That when the Demon God''s aura spread across the land, and monsters started spawning. But it didn''t only affect the animals; it affected us too¡ªand not in a good way. People started getting sick, and they couldn''t do specific things. It was very strange."
"What do you mean by ''specific things''?" Tyler asked.
"Strangely," Grone explained, "they couldn''t do specific things. For example, someone couldn''t work in the fields; whenever they did, they felt uneasy and sick, but as soon as they stopped, they felt fine. And some people died because of that¡ªsome couldn''t eat, some couldn''t drink water, some couldn''t do both, some couldn''t sleep, some couldn''t walk. It was very tragic in those years. Those were the years before I was born." He paused, his voice somber. "Those were the years the Goddess gave people magic, and hunters and saints started to emerge. You have to understand that not everyone was cursed back then. There were many people, but nowadays, those who were cursed are very few. But you also need to understand that the aura affected every single human being, but nothing happened to some. Saints had the power to heal these curses. Oh, and once a person exceeds level 100, the curse disappears if they were cursed and turns in to the skill Cursed strike or otherwise know as cursed attack."
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"Huh," Tyler said, "I didn''t know anything about this. So if saints can heal curses, why are there still cursed people today?"
"Well," Grone replied, "some of them don''t actually want to get rid of the curse."
"But why?" Tyler asked, genuinely confused. "Wouldn''t it be bothersome? I mean, they won''t be able to do some of the things they want."
"Well," Grone explained, "some hunters don''t want to get rid of the curse because they want it to turn into a dark skill. And saints nowadays charge a lot of money to remove a curse."
"They charge a lot of money to get rid of a curse?" Tyler repeated, surprised.
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "And if *I* had a curse, I''d want to get rid of it."
Tyler looked at Grone intently. "What if you already *have* one?"
"What do you mean?" Grone asked, a hint of unease in his voice.
"I mean," Tyler said, "is there a kind of curse that¡"
Grone interrupted. "No, I know what you mean. You think there''s a curse that prevents someone from leveling up, right? But I was already healed by a saint. Even before healing me, they said they couldn''t sense any aura of a curse, but they healed me anyway. It still did nothing for this problem of mine." Grone lifted his hand, examining it. "It''s something no one could figure out. It''s very complicated. I''ve tried to figure it out myself, but I couldn''t."
"Oh," Tyler said, acknowledging Grone''s explanation as they arrived at the waiting wagons. They boarded and rode out of town. Tyler continued to look at Grone thoughtfully as they traveled.
Meanwhile, at the Crossroads base, Gary and Steven stood near the quest board. Steven was studying a flyer, then glanced at his older brother, who looked back with an annoyed expression.
"I thought you said he''d be here," Gary grumbled. "We came here yesterday, and we still couldn''t find him. I went through every room in the inn, and we still couldn''t find the bastard you were talking about. Did you just make this up?"
"No!" Steven protested. "Why the hell would I make this up? Don''t you remember? Even that man knew about him. What was his name again? Oh, yeah, Bernardo. He''s still around the tent. If I made that story up, nobody else would know him, right?"
Gary stared at his younger brother for a moment before turning his attention back to the flyer.
"Hey," Gary called to Serena behind the counter, "have you seen a guy wearing a blue long robe recently? They said he''s an E-rank hunter¡ªblack hair, blue robe, and unusual shoes."
Serena tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, you must be talking about Tyler. And no, he''s not an E-rank anymore; he''s actually a D-rank."
Steven''s eyes widened. "Wait, he''s a D-rank?"
"Yeah," Serena confirmed. "I was actually surprised. He jumped from E-rank to D-rank overnight. Well, he must have been an E-rank plus; that would explain it. Anyways, the person you''re searching for is Tyler, and no, I haven''t seen him today."
"His name is Tyler, huh? I''ll keep that in mind," Gary said, then looked at his brother. "Come on, let''s go." He took one quest flyer, and Steven grabbed another as they headed toward the Crossroads exit.
"Are we leaving Bernardo behind?" Steven asked.
"Of course not," Gary replied. "You thought he was behind the tent, but he was actually outside the Crossroads base."
As soon as they reached the exit, Bernardo was waiting by the wooden walls. "Did you find him?" he asked.
"No, we didn''t," Gary said. "If we found him, you would have known. But we do know his name now, but we can''t just wait around. I need to get this brat to level up first," Gary said, looking at Steven.
"What do you mean, so you''re going in there?" Bernardo asked.
"Of course," Steven said. "And who knows, we might find him in there."
"Yeah, but I''m not a hunter," Bernardo protested. "And remember the deal; we agreed I''d help you guys."
"That''s why you''re coming with us, aren''t you?" Gary said.
"Wait a minute! What do you mean by ''coming with us''? I''m not a hunter! I''ll get killed as soon as I get in there!"
Gary moved closer to Bernardo, looking him directly in the eye. His voice was low and dangerous. "I don''t think I made myself clear. You''re going with us whether you like it or not."
Bernardo visibly trembled. "Yes, of course," he stammered.
Gary turned and started walking, Steven following close behind. Bernardo watched them go, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. *What the hell is he thinking?* he thought. *I''m just going to drag them down at this point. And what if I get killed before I even find that bastard? This isn''t good.*
Meanwhile, Grone and Tyler arrived at the Crossroads base, disembarked from the wagon, and paid the driver. Tyler walked alongside Grone, heading towards the quest tent. *Oh, damn it,* he thought, *I forgot to craft some more armor. I better do it now. I don''t think this thing is going to last long.*
Grone broke the silence. "We''re here. Let''s go take on some quests quickly. We''ll eat when we get back, right?"
"Yes," Tyler replied. "I''m not really hungry right now. Let''s go take on some quests first. Plus, I need the money."
"Alright," Grone agreed.
As they approached the quest tent, Serena spotted them. "Oh, good morning," she greeted them cheerfully.
Chapter 53: A Walking Poison
"Good morning," Tyler replied to Serena''s greeting. Grone, standing beside him, added, "Good morning." Serena smiled. "Right, you''re looking for quests, right? There are lots of D-rank quests, but I''m not really sure about the C-rank quests, though," she said, as Grone squinted at the quest board behind her. She ducked under the counter, returning with several flyers which she placed before Tyler.
"Ah, thanks," Tyler said.
"No problem," Serena replied.
Tyler began looking through the D-rank quest flyers, noticing various requests: slime cores, hexhorn hides, and hides from other monsters.
Grone pointed to the quest board. "I saw a C-rank quest on the board."
Serena looked up. "Oh," she said, retrieving a flyer from the board. "There really *is* a C-rank quest. Sorry, I must have forgotten about it."
"Let me see what it''s about," Grone said, taking the flyer. He read it aloud: *Hunter is requested to return with the full hide of an Alpha Crimson Wolf.* He was a bit surprised. He looked at Serena, who simply nodded. "This quest is recommended for C-rank plus hunters," she explained.
Grone looked at Tyler, then back at the flyer. "No, it''s fine. I think I can complete it."
"You do know it''s the quest where you''d have to go into the Crimson Wolf''s Den, right?" Serena said, a hint of caution in her voice.
Tyler looked at Grone, a question in his eyes. "The Crimson Wolf''s Den?"
Grone nodded. "Yes, it''s a C-rank quest, after all. I have to kill the Alpha and get its hide."
Tyler asked, "Wait, but what level would the Alpha be?"
"Probably 60 to 70," Grone estimated. "But not to worry, you''ll have my back, right?"
"Oh, right, of course," Tyler replied.
"What about you?" Grone asked. "Did you already pick a quest yet?"
Tyler started looking through the flyers again. "I''m not really sure. I mean, I can''t seem to decide."
"Just pick the one with the best reward," Grone advised.
"Yeah, it''s just that three of them have the same reward, and I''m trying to find the easiest one," Tyler said, continuing to scan the flyers. After a moment, he pointed. "Ah, I''ll take this one." He placed the flyers on the counter, took a pencil, and signed his name, Grone doing the same.
"Which one did you pick?" Grone asked.
"Oh, it''s one about hunting a level 40 Draco and bringing back its hide," Tyler replied. "Don''t really know what they''re going to use it for."
Serena smiled. "Oh, those hides can be used to make lavish shoes and durable, beautiful clothing. Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you something. Some people have come through here looking for you."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "People were looking for me?"
"Yes," Serena confirmed. "They kept describing your outfit, so I told them it was you."
"Who were they?" Tyler asked.
"I don''t know who the others were, but one of them was Gary," Serena replied.
Grone''s brow furrowed. "Gary? Why was he looking for Tyler?"
Serena shrugged. "I don''t know."
"If it''s Gary," Grone said, "I don''t think it''s for a good reason." He looked at Tyler. "Did you happen to run into Gary at some point?"
Tyler thought for a moment. "Uh, no. I''ve only seen him once, and that was with you when I first got here."
"The other one''s name was¡ Bernardo, I think," Serena said. "Bernard¡ I''m not really sure. Anyways, it seemed like there were three of them. The other one wasn''t here, though."
"Did you tell them his name?" Grone asked, his tone sharper now.
"Yes," Serena admitted. "That''s what I said. I told them the person they were looking for was Tyler."
"Why would you do that?" Grone exclaimed. "You know that if it''s Gary, you shouldn''t have told them Tyler''s name."
Serena''s face fell. "Yeah, I apologize for that. I''m sorry. But, I only thought about it after they left. But just because it''s Gary doesn''t mean he''s just looking to pick a fight with him, right?"
"Well, let''s just hope so," Grone said, though his tone didn''t sound entirely convinced.
"Wow," Tyler said, "does Gary really have that much of a bad reputation?"
"You have no idea," Grone replied. "Everybody in the Crossroads base doesn''t like him. Anyways, we have to go."
"Oh, alright," Serena said. "Be careful out there."
"We will," Tyler said, and together, he and Grone left the tent, heading towards the base''s exit.
Tyler checked his stats again, feeling a familiar flutter of nervousness, though not as intense as during his first quest. He accessed his inventory, noting he had enough materials. As they neared the base''s exit, he stopped Grone. "Grone, I need to craft something first."
"Craft something?" Grone asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, let''s stop here; it''ll only take a few seconds," Tyler replied. He then muttered, "Craft Shine Armor." The system panel appeared, displaying "Crafting¡" The crafting bar filled rapidly, and soon, "Crafting successful" appeared. Tyler accessed his inventory and saw the Shine Armor icon. To Grone, it looked as if Tyler was simply staring into thin air.
"So, you''re looking at that ''system'' thing you were talking about?" Grone asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"Um, yes," Tyler admitted. "It must feel pretty awkward, huh? But I am crafting something. Actually, it''s done. I just have to see the armor stats now." He mentally selected the icon, and the system panel appeared, displaying the armor''s stats:
Shine Armor
DEF: 82
Skill: Radiant Burst
"Oh, it has a skill?" Tyler murmured, surprised. He then commanded, "Equip Shine Armor." Instantly, his body was enveloped in a blue light, and his Gloom Armor was replaced by gleaming silver armor.
The Shine Armor was a marvel of craftsmanship. The chest plate, a broad expanse of polished silver, was intricately etched with swirling patterns that seemed to shift and shimmer in the light. It was segmented for flexibility, allowing for a full range of motion, and the edges were subtly rounded, suggesting both strength and elegance. The armor''s overall design was sleek and streamlined, suggesting both protection and agility. The silver gleamed with an almost ethereal quality, as if reflecting an inner light. The armor extended to cover the legs in a similar polished silver, forming sleek greaves that moved smoothly with the legs. The design was practical and functional, prioritizing protection and mobility without unnecessary ornamentation. The overall effect was one of understated strength and refined craftsmanship.
Grone was surprised. Tyler lifted his feet, testing the armor. It had some weight, but not enough to slow him down; it felt surprisingly light.
"I don''t think I''ll ever get used to that," Grone said.
"Same here," Tyler replied. "This armor seems much tougher than the one I was wearing."
"Yeah, I mean, this one''s made of metal, right?" Grone asked.
"Yes, of course," Tyler answered. He then looked up, seemingly into thin air. "Can you give me a description of the armor skill? A description of what it does."
Grone looked at him quizzically. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, sorry," Tyler said, "I was talking to the system." He felt even more self-conscious talking to the system in front of Grone; it made him feel abnormal.
The system panel appeared, the text read:
Radiant Burst: This skill allows the user to absorb ambient light into the armor. Once the armor''s absorption capacity is reached, the user can release the stored light, blinding those around them. The armor absorption bar can be viewed at any time.
"Show me the bar," Tyler requested. A circular loading bar appeared on the system panel, about halfway full. *Wow, that was fast,* Tyler thought.
He looked at Grone. "Yeah, I''m sorry for keeping you waiting. We can go ahead now."
"It''s alright," Grone said. "Let''s go."
Tyler and Grone left the base, heading through the nearby bushes.
As they walked, Tyler and Grone saw no monsters.
"I thought there''d be more monsters, especially this early in the morning," Tyler said. "I guess other hunters must have gotten here early."
"Yeah, it''s unfortunate," Grone replied. "And we''re just about to reach the river."
As they spoke, Tyler felt something was wrong. Then, they both heard a shriek from above. Tyler reacted instantly, his iron axe materializing in his hand. "Watch out!" he yelled, whirling around as the axe narrowly missed Grone''s forehead. He swung, cleaving the slither that had dropped from a tree. Its head and body landed on the ground with a thud. He breathed heavily, adrenaline surging.
"So it was a slither," Grone said. "Those things are pretty dangerous."
Tyler looked at the slither''s severed head and body. "Yeah," he agreed, noticing the blood pooling around the severed head. He remembered something.
"Let''s go," Grone urged.
"Wait," Tyler said. "I need to take the blood."
"What?" Grone asked. "Why do you need a slither''s blood?"
"It''s an ingredient for my alchemy skill," Tyler explained. He then commanded, "Craft vial." The system responded instantly: Crafting successful. *Is this even going to work?* he wondered. He then mentally commanded, "Extract blood." The slither''s corpse shimmered blue for a fraction of a second, as did his vial. The slither''s blood was now inside the vial.
"Huh, it actually worked," Tyler muttered, as the vial shimmered briefly before disappearing into his inventory. He stood up. "Let''s go."
Tyler and Grone continued walking. "Man, it''s kind of unnerving thinking those things could drop from anywhere," Tyler said. "I didn''t know they lived in trees."
"They don''t," Grone corrected. "They mostly live in holes. I''m surprised it was attacking from a tree, too."
"So, since you started hunting, it''s never done that before?" Tyler asked.
"No, never," Grone confirmed. "Slithers are very dangerous, especially if they level up past 60."
"What do you mean by that?" Tyler asked.
"Well, if they level up past 60, they evolve into white venomous serpents," Grone explained.
"Venomous serpents?" Tyler repeated, surprised.
"Yes," Grone said. "And they''re very huge."
"How come we''ve never run into one before?" Tyler asked.
"Well, it''s pretty rare to run into them," Grone said. "Because¡ slithers are one of the weakest monsters you can find. They''re¡ slightly below the food chain. A slither can be easily killed by a hexhorn or a gloomfang."
"So what do they survive on?" Tyler asked.
"They mostly feed on weaker prey," Grone answered. "For example, slimes, smaller pixels, or small creatures. They never really feed on bigger ones, although they''re also stupid enough to attack stronger prey, like us."
"Yeah," Tyler agreed, "that''s pretty dumb."
Tyler noticed they had reached the river. Grone walked carefully across the narrow, stone path. Tyler looked down at the water cautiously, remembering his near-fatal encounter with a lurker during his last river crossing. He felt a wave of relief as he reached the other side.
They continued walking when Grone suddenly placed a hand on Tyler''s chest, stopping him. "Do you see that?" he whispered.
Tyler focused on the direction Grone indicated and spotted two pixels. Their backs were to them, and they hadn''t noticed Tyler and Grone.
"We need to be really careful if we want to kill them successfully," Grone murmured. He gestured for Tyler to crouch. Tyler crouched low beside Grone as they stealthily moved towards the pixels.
As Grone slowly drew his sword, a sharp *shink* echoed through the quiet. The nearest pixel''s head snapped around, spotting them through the bushes. Grone muttered, "Shit," under his breath. The pixel spread its wings and let out a piercing shriek.
Tyler and Grone quickly stood, eyes squeezed shut, hands over their ears. The sound was incredibly loud and intensely high-pitched. While one pixel shrieked, sending waves of sound at them, the other started running towards them. Tyler cautiously opened his eyes a crack.
Tyler slammed his eyes shut, a guttural roar escaping his lips. "Keep your eyes closed!" he bellowed, unleashing the raw power of Radiant Burst. In an instant, his armor erupted in a blinding supernova of white light, an incandescent explosion that consumed the immediate world. The pixels were engulfed in a searing, blinding inferno of light, their vision obliterated by the sheer, overwhelming brilliance. The very shadows of the ancient trees recoiled before the radiant fury, shrinking and dissolving into nothingness as if consumed by the light itself.
The light vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving an echoing silence in its wake. Tyler''s eyes snapped open, his senses sharpened, his body a coiled spring of lethal energy. He launched himself at the disoriented pixel, a blur of motion. His iron axe materialized in his grasp, a gleaming extension of his own furious will. With a savage, earth-shattering arc, he cleaved through the pixel''s neck, severing its head with brutal efficiency. The creature crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
His attention shifted to the second pixel, a creature of breathtaking, terrifying beauty. Its wings, vast and iridescent, shimmered with a kaleidoscopic display of shifting colors, a hypnotic vortex threatening to ensnare his very soul. The rapid, mesmerizing change of its plumage held Tyler captive, his movements slowing, his mind caught in the creature''s deadly spell. His iron axe, forgotten in his hand, drooped towards the earth. He was a statue, frozen in time, drawn inexorably towards the mesmerizing spectacle of death.
Grone, eyes still clamped shut against the aftereffects of the blinding light, reacted instinctively. He snatched up his sword, a blur of motion in the lingering afterglow. With a guttural cry, he unleashed his slash skill, a searing arc of steel that sliced through the air, severing the pixel''s wing with a sickening slash. The creature shrieked in agony, the hypnotic dance of its feathers abruptly ceasing.
Snapping free from the pixel''s mesmerizing spell, Tyler roared, his primal fury unleashed. He launched himself at the wounded creature, his iron axe a weapon of righteous vengeance. With a mighty leap, he brought the axe crashing down, the sharp edge tearing through the pixel''s neck and shoulder with savage precision.
The creature split in half as it fell, and a system panel appeared above the two corpses, displaying a single word in a blue text box: EXTRACT.
Tyler thought, *If I''d been equipped with the Gloom Armor, I could have used my Rush skill to be faster. Then again, if I''d used Rush instead of Radiant Burst when the creature spotted us, I could have killed it quickly, but I still might have gotten hypnotized by the other one.*
He turned to Grone. "Are you alright?"
"I''m fine," Grone replied, looking at the dead pixels. "What level were they?"
Tyler checked. "The one I killed near you was level 39, while the one I just killed is level 37."
"So they were both E-rank monsters," Grone concluded.
"I guess so," Tyler said. "We need to keep moving, right?"
"Yes, let''s keep moving," Grone agreed.
Tyler looked at the blood on his axe, lost in thought. *I killed both those creatures in one strike, and if I remember correctly, the attack power on this axe is 82. Does this mean these creatures have low vitality, or was I able to one-shot them because I have a lot of strength now? Man, the system is so confusing. Its game logic feels¡ weird.*
Grone''s voice broke through his thoughts. "Aren''t you going to use that skill?"
"Oh, yeah, right, extract," Tyler said. Both corpses shimmered blue, and their feathers vanished.
"Alright, let''s go," Tyler said.
As they walked, Tyler considered something. *Should I make it now?* He checked his inventory; he had all the materials needed for the Poison Bond alchemy recipe. He muttered under his breath, "Craft Poison Bond."
The system responded: Craft Poison Bond?( Yes/No)
Tyler mentally selected "Yes." The system confirmed: Crafting Poison Bond¡ A circular loading bar slowly filled.
Grone, walking beside him, pulled out a small leather bag, took out a waterskin, and took a drink. "Do you want any?" he offered.
"No, I''m fine," Tyler replied.
He opened his palm, and a vial appeared, containing a purple liquid. A text label above it read: Poison Bond.
Grone saw this. "Is that another potion?" he asked.
"I''m not really sure," Tyler replied.
"What do you mean by that?" Grone asked.
"Well, I''d have to ask the system," Tyler said. "This is something new I just crafted."
The system panel appeared: It is recommended that the user has over 100 HP before consuming Poison Bond.
Tyler frowned. "Huh, why?" The system remained silent. Tyler nervously swallowed, his gaze fixed on the vial.
Tyler blinked, surprised that nothing immediately happened. He¡¯d expected a more dramatic effect from the Poison Bond. Grone looked at him expectantly. "So, what kind of potion was it?"
"I don''t know," Tyler replied, a slight tremor in his voice.
"Why did you drink it?" Grone asked, concern lacing his tone. "What if it turned out to be poisonous?"
Tyler chuckled nervously. "Poisonous, huh¡"
The words were barely out of his mouth when a searing pain lanced through his chest, a white-hot agony that stole his breath. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence. He clutched at his chest, his eyes squeezed shut, a low groan escaping his lips. The pain intensified, spreading like wildfire through his body.
Grone''s eyes widened. "Whoa, are you alright?" he asked, his voice sharp with alarm.
"No," Tyler gasped, his voice strained, as he sank to his knees, his legs buckling beneath him. He felt a suffocating pressure in his chest, each breath a ragged, painful struggle. His body began to overheat, a wave of intense heat washing over him. He could feel the change in his saliva; it was becoming intensely sour, a thick, viscous liquid that now poured from his mouth, coating his chin and dripping onto the ground. A wave of nausea rolled over him, and he vomited a torrent of sour, watery fluid, collapsing onto the forest floor, unconscious.
Grone rushed to his side, his face etched with worry. He quickly turned Tyler onto his back. Tyler gasped awake, his chest heaving, his breath ragged and shallow. He groaned, a low, pained sound,
"What the hell just happened?" Said Grone his voice lanced with concern.
A system panel shimmered into existence, hovering in the air above him, obscuring Grone''s concerned face:
User has lost 100 HP.
User has gained a new skill: Poison Blood.
User''s blood is now poisonous. Skill can be turned on or off at will. No mana is required.
Chapter 54: + 5% XP
Bernardo scrambled to keep up with Gary and Steven, who were hot on the trail of a Gloomfang. The creature activated its Rush skill, its speed dramatically increasing. It became a blur of motion, its paws barely touching the ground. Gary surged ahead, leaving Steven and Bernardo far behind as if they were standing still. Steven slowed to a stop, watching his brother pursue the creature. Bernardo finally caught up, his breathing heavy, sweat already beading on his brow. "Wha-What the hell do you guys think you''re doing? Suddenly leaving me behind like that?" he gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead. Steven, annoyed, retorted, "What do you think hunters do when they spot a monster?"
Meanwhile, Gary, mid-run, unsheathed his sword with a practiced flick of the wrist. As the blade cleared its scabbard, he muttered, "Sword Wave." A visible, colorless aura, like flowing water, erupted from the swing. It shot through the trees with incredible speed, striking the Gloomfang''s back. The force of the blow lifted the creature off its feet, sending it tumbling through the air with a pained howl before it crashed heavily to the forest floor. Gary arrived swiftly, sinking his silver sword deep into the Gloomfang''s leg, driving the blade into the earth until only the hilt remained visible. The creature howled in agony.
"Hey! Get over here!" Gary shouted to Steven. Steven, hearing his brother''s call, started running towards them.
The Gloomfang howled in agony, struggling desperately to escape the impaled sword. Gary, annoyed by the incessant noise, lifted his leg and stomped down hard on the creature''s jaw, crushing it with a sickening crunch. A final, strangled howl escaped the creature''s broken mouth before it fell silent, though its body still twitched slightly.
Steven arrived, panting. "Is it dead?"
"No," Gary replied. "Remember, you''re killing it, not me. I just wanted it to shut up; it could have called for others."
"Yeah, there''s always more nearby," Steven agreed, unsheathing his sword and swiftly driving it into the monster''s eye. The Gloomfang went still.
Gary and Steven withdrew their swords as Bernardo finally caught up. "Woah, so that''s a Gloomfang, huh?" he said, staring at the corpse.
Steven sheathed his sword. "What? You''ve never seen one before?"
"No," Bernardo replied. "Only some materials made from them."
"Well, you''re about to see a lot more," Gary said, a grin spreading across his face.
Suddenly, a chorus of growls erupted from the surrounding bushes. Nine Gloomfangs, their blue fur gleaming, emerged, encircling the two hunters and Bernardo. Bernardo instinctively moved closer to Gary and Steven.
Gary chuckled. "Looks like it was too late; it already called for the others."
Steven, slowly unsheathing his sword, asked, "Why are there so many of them?"
Gary grinned. "Why wouldn''t there be? We''re headed towards their den."
Fear edged Bernardo''s voice. "You''re happy about this? Why?"
"''Cause this means more monsters for my little brother to level up. Am I right?" Gary said, unsheathing his sword with a grin. Steven looked around; all three of them were surrounded, their backs to each other, facing the closing Gloomfangs. "I don''t think we can beat this," Steven said, his voice strained. "Can''t you just summon White Fang?"
Gary whirled around, his eyes blazing with anger. "How *fucking* dare you? You don''t think I can take them on by myself? Don''t forget I''m here because Father said so!" Steven, unable to meet his brother''s furious gaze, looked down at his shaking sword. "Right¡ I''m sorry, big brother."
Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek pierced the air from a distance. Bernardo, Gary, and Steven all turned towards the sound. The Gloomfangs, momentarily distracted, also shifted their attention. Then, something extraordinary happened. A blindingly bright white light erupted on the horizon, impossibly far away yet somehow brighter than the sun itself. The Gloomfangs, as one, activated their Rush skills, their speed drastically increasing as they all ran towards the light.
Bernardo, Gary, and Steven were left standing there, stunned. They watched as the monsters disappeared towards the light.
"What the hell was that just now?" Gary exclaimed.
"I don''t know," Steven replied, "but it has to be a hunter, right?"
"That must have been a mage hunter," Gary said, his voice thoughtful.
Bernardo asked, "A mage hunter, huh? Are they that powerful?"
Steven nodded. "Yeah, that''s the only explanation. I mean, tankers can use their taunt skill to do something similar, but it''s nothing like this. This has to be a mage hunter, and a C-rank or above at that." Bernardo let out a sigh of relief.
Gary clicked his tongue, a frustrated sound. "The freaking mage hunter stole our prey, huh?" He looked at his brother. "But you''re not getting off that easily. I told you before, we''re heading towards their den."
Steven''s eyes widened. "Wait, what? You''re serious? I''m still only E-rank. We can''t go towards their den! I''ll get killed. And think about Bernardo¡ªhe''s not even a hunter; he''ll get killed too!"
Gary grabbed his brother by the collar, lifting him slightly off the ground with one hand. "Well, you want to level up, right? I''ve been a hunter way longer than you. And you think you can tell *me* what to do? This isn''t home, little brat, and Father isn''t here. When I say we go, we go. When I say stop, you stop. Got it?"
Steven, his feet dangling, mumbled, "Yes, of course, I got it."
Gary released him. Bernardo, sensing the shift in power, felt a chill of fear. *If we''re going to a monster''s den,* he thought, *I might definitely die.*
Bernardo spoke up, his voice trembling slightly. "I''m not going to say we shouldn''t go, but¡ can''t you at least give me a weapon?"
Gary and Steven looked at Bernardo. Gary removed a dagger from his belt and threw it to Bernardo, who caught it easily. "Alright, thank you," Bernardo said, examining the shiny silver blade. "Let''s go," Gary stated, already turning away. Bernardo and Steven exchanged a look before following Gary.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Meanwhile, Tyler, slumped on the ground, rolled onto his side and pushed himself up, using his hands for support. The system panel appeared before him: User shall be immune to all kinds of poisons and venoms. He looked at Grone.
"Come on, answer me," Grone urged, "what happened just now?"
Tyler groaned slightly. "That was the Poison Bond. It just caused me a bit of pain, but I''m fine." He spat out some remaining sour saliva and wiped his mouth.
"A bit of pain?" Grone exclaimed. "It looked like you were about to die!"
Tyler grinned. "Yeah, but it was all worth it."
Grone frowned. "I don''t understand."
"I just got a new skill," Tyler explained.
Grone''s eyes widened. "A new skill? Just now?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "When I drank the potion, it gave me a pretty unique skill. I didn''t think I''d get something like this."
"What kind of skill is it?" Grone asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Poison Blood," Tyler replied.
"Poison Blood? That''s the skill you got?" Grone repeated, incredulous.
"Yeah," Tyler said. "I can let my blood become poison any time i want.
Somehow, Tyler''s ability reminded Grone of his Younger sister''s skill: Blood Explosion. "So you''re telling me you got a new skill from drinking from a vial?" Grone asked, still slightly incredulous.
"Yeah, that''s correct," Tyler confirmed.
"So this alchemy skill of yours¡ you can get skills just from drinking more of those potions?" Grone pressed, his eyes wide with interest.
Tyler shook his head. "I''m not really sure. This is the first time I''ve done it. And as far as the recipes go, I haven''t seen any others that promise another skill. I mean, I''ve only seen ones about MP restoration, life force regeneration¡"
"Honestly," Grone interrupted, "this alchemy skill of yours¡ it has so much potential. If anyone from any guild were to learn about this, they''d want to recruit you immediately. Tyler, you could make a lot of money from this by joining a bigger guild."
"Joining a guild, huh?" Tyler mused. "Well, I''m not sure if I''m ready for that yet. Plus, you said guilds can be dangerous. And before that, I wasn''t planning on joining a group of hunters, not early in my career, anyway¡"
Tyler was cut short by a system panel appearing in the distance, partially obscured by a bush, but still clearly visible to him. He read the words: Ada''s Tree.
Tyler''s expression changed dramatically. Grone noticed immediately. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp with concern.
"Do you remember when I asked you about Adas Tree, and you said it was a pretty rare tree to come across?" Tyler asked.
"Yes, I remember saying that," Grone replied. "But what about it?"
"Well, I think I found one," Tyler said, heading towards the location indicated by the system panel. He pushed aside some bushes and revealed a small, slender tree with about forty to fifty light green leaves.
Grone followed Tyler, his surprise evident as he saw the tree. "Well, I''ll be damned," Grone muttered. "That''s an Ada''s Tree, isn''t it?"
"Yeah, it is," Tyler confirmed.
"I don''t know if this is luck or something else," Grone said, shaking his head. "People hardly run into these trees, but there are a lot of them in humanoid monster zones. This is pure luck."
Tyler examined the Ada''s Tree. He uttered the word, "Extract." The leaves glowed a light blue for a moment before vanishing, appearing in his inventory.
Tyler turned to Grone. "Finally, I''ve got them. Shall we continue with our hunting?"
"Well, yeah," Grone agreed.
As they started walking, Grone asked, "What were you going to do with the Ada''s Tree leaves?"
"I told you earlier," Tyler said, "it''s an ingredient for my alchemy skill. I''m going to have to create another potion." He touched his chin thoughtfully as they walked. "But I wonder where I''m going to get holy water¡"
Grone chuckled. "Holy water, you say? Well, you''re in luck if you''re looking for holy water. The water I offered you earlier¡ that was holy water."
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Huh? So you were just carrying holy water with you the whole time?"
"I don''t *just* carry holy water with me all the time," Grone explained. "You see, my wife, Lisa, always goes to the Fiona Church to get holy water. I''ve always used this waterskin, but she started using it to get holy water. She told me to buy a new one for her, but I always forgot. Today, I instinctively grabbed this waterskin, and I only remembered it contained holy water when we got to the crossroads base¡ªit was already too late. So I decided, why not just use it? I''ll get more water when we return and buy her a new waterskin."
"Huh," Tyler said, his eyes gleaming. "Can I¡ can I have that, please?"
Grone stopped, removed the waterskin from his bag, and handed it to Tyler.
"Thanks," Tyler said, opening his palm. A Vial materialized from his inventory. He carefully poured the holy water from the waterskin into the vial.
Tyler examined the holy water in his palm. *So this is holy water¡ It looks just like the stuff from my old world. Is there really much of a difference?* he wondered.
He looked up at Grone. "So, what does holy water even *do*?"
"Well," Grone explained, "holy water is made by saints. If saints pray over water, it becomes holy water. They say if you drink holy water regularly, for a very long time, you can get rid of curses placed on you by mage hunters."
"Wait," Tyler said, surprised. "Mage hunters can give people curses?"
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "It''s not like the curse from the Demon God; this is totally different. It''s more like a skill, sort of like ''Silence.''"
The word triggered a memory in Tyler''s mind. He recalled his hunter registration, a man using Silence on someone about to attack him. The victim''s mouth had vanished completely.
"Oh, I know about that skill," Tyler said. "I saw it once. It was very strange¡ªthe person''s mouth was completely gone."
"Oh, but it''s not just their mouths that are shut," Grone added. "Their abilities are also shut down for a short time. You see, if ''Silence'' is used on another mage hunter, they can still use skills, but not advanced ones. They can use smaller skills like weak fireballs or light heals and so on, but nothing else."
"Oh, so the Silence skill doesn''t last for long," Tyler said.
"Yeah," Grone confirmed. "But if you''re an S-rank mage hunter, you can use another skill called Dead Silence. That one can permanently shut down a mage hunter''s advanced skills. Sometimes, it can even completely block someone''s mana waves¡ªtheir body won''t be able to produce any mana at all."
"Mana waves?" Tyler asked, tilting his head.
"Haven''t I taught you about that?" Grone asked, surprised.
"You taught me how to circulate my mana," Tyler admitted, "but you never taught me about mana waves."
"Ah, yes, mana waves," Grone said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You see, in a sense, mana is all around us, and our bodies absorb it constantly. That mana gathers in the center of our body¡ªthe abdomen¡ªand you release it the way I''ve taught you. It''s been absorbed constantly since the day you were born."
"Really?" Tyler said, impressed. "That''s kind of fascinating, Grone."
"Yes, it is fascinating when you hear about it," Grone agreed.
Tyler''s vial of holy water vanished into his inventory.
"I really didn''t know that mana was all around us," Tyler said, "but it does make sense. It''s similar to what you said about how the Demon God''s aura spread across the earth and how the Goddess gave people mana. So I''m guessing the Goddess''s mana and the Demon God''s aura are all over the world."
"Correct," Grone said.
"Oh¡" Tyler said, a thoughtful pause. "Anyways, thanks for the holy water. It''s time to craft one more thing."
Tyler opened his inventory, his thoughts drifting. *Mana waves, huh? I''m starting to think this is somehow related to Grone''s wife''s secret. She said she can only use preservation magic, but she''s level 141 and didn''t want to tell me anything. Did someone use Dead Silence on her? It''s probably better not to think about it too much. I don''t want to meddle in their business. They''ve helped me, but they don''t want my help in those situations. I can help them in another way¡ªa way that helped me.*
Grone spoke, breaking through Tyler''s thoughts. "Oh, there was also a rumor that holy water could help someone level up quickly. But people soon realized it was just a rumor. No matter how much you drink, your leveling up stays the same. I''ve tried it myself¡ªno difference."
"Oh," Tyler murmured, checking his inventory. He then said aloud, "Craft Necklace of Growth."
The system panel appeared: Craft Accessory? Yes/No.
Tyler selected "Yes." The system responded with a new panel: Crafting Accessory¡ A circular loading bar began to fill slowly as Tyler and Grone continued walking. Grone watched Tyler, subtly avoiding eye contact because he knew Tyler would feel self-conscious about the visible system interface.
The loading bar completed. A new system panel appeared: Crafting Complete! Another system panel then appeared: Achievement Unlocked: Craft Accessory: +5 STM.
Tyler opened his palm, and the necklace materialized. It had a delicate golden copper chain and a round silver pendant featuring a concentric circle pattern. Tyler examined the necklace, then he put it on.
"So you crafted a necklace?" Grone asked.
"Yeah," Tyler replied, "it''s an accessory. I''m guessing it''s supposed to give some kind of effect."
A system panel appeared: User has equipped Necklace of Growth. User will receive an additional 15% XP upon killing an entity.
Tyler''s heart pounded as he read this. Then, another system panel appeared: User''s XP gain is reduced by 25% due to lack of Goddess''s Blessing. Necklace of growth has countered the system handicap. Only 10% is cut from killing entities.
"Wait a minute," Tyler muttered, "only 10% now?"
"What?" Grone asked, his voice sharp with concern.
"Wait, wait, hold on a minute!" Tyler said, quickly removing the necklace. He opened his other palm, revealing an enhancement stone.
Grone''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What is that?"
"Wait, I want to see something," Tyler said, his voice hushed with excitement. "If this works¡ this is going to change everything."
"What are you talking about?" Grone asked, his curiosity piqued.
Tyler carefully placed the enhancement stone on top of the necklace. A system panel appeared: Merging¡
The enhancement stone and necklace floated in the air, emitting a bright blue light. Grone and Tyler watched, captivated, as the necklace slowly descended back into Tyler''s palm.
"What was that just now?" Grone asked, his voice filled with wonder.
"It''s an enhancement stone," Tyler explained. "It doubles the effect of any accessory or weapon I have. I wanted to see if it worked."
Tyler noticed the concentric circles on the pendant now glowed faintly blue before fading. He put the necklace back on, fastening the clasp at the back. Something astonishing happened.
A system panel appeared: Accessory Enhancement Successful. User will receive +30% XP upon killing an entity.
Immediately, another system panel appeared: Due to the user not receiving the Goddess''s Blessing, their XP gain shall be reduced by 25%. The Necklace of Growth has countered the system''s handicap. User shall receive +5% XP upon killing an entity.
Grone looked at Tyler, a question in his eyes. "Did it work?"
He didn''t need an answer. Tyler''s wide, excited smile said it all.
Suddenly, they heard sounds in the distance¡ªthe unmistakable crunch of twigs underfoot, the rustling of bushes. It sounded like a large number of creatures were approaching.
Grone was surprised to see Tyler''s smile hadn''t faded as a shimmering Axe materialized in Tyler''s hands. Then, system text boxes shimmered into existence all around them, listing various monsters and their levels. For some reason, despite the impending danger, Tyler felt nothing but exhilaration.
Chapter 55: I Became A C-Rank
As Tyler and Grone stood in the forest, Grone heard the telltale sounds of growls, rushing footsteps, and things brushing against the bushes. "Grone, you should get ready to fight," Tyler said, already adopting a fighting stance. "They''re coming from all around us." Grone unsheathed his sword; its polished surface gleamed in the sunlight. He moved to stand behind Tyler, also assuming a fighting stance, his sword raised.
Tyler saw a system panel appear: Slime (Lvl 17) has used skill: Bash. A blue, round slime launched itself from the bushes, heading straight for Tyler''s head. With a swift upward swing, Tyler''s long iron axe cleaved the slime in two, splitting even its core.
Suddenly, two Hexhorns appeared charging towards Grone from his direction. Grone met their attack head-on. He swung his sword in a powerful upward then downward arc, unleashing two slashing attacks. The first Hexhorn took the brunt of the attack, its face sliced open from nose to eye. It shrieked, stopping mid-charge, allowing the second Hexhorn to pass by. Grone saw the second Hexhorn was smaller, indicating a lower level. He increased his speed, and when he was only a few feet away, he activated his Piercing skill. Extending his sword hand, he drove the blade through the Hexhorn''s nose. The force of the skill shattered the creature''s nose, pushing its body backward until it fell to the ground, dead.
Grone ran toward the stopped Hexhorn. Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword with both hands, a powerful rightward slash that severed the creature''s neck before it could react. Just as he turned to check on Tyler, a growl erupted from the bushes¡ªa Crimson Wolf. Grone immediately assumed a fighting stance, ready for the wolf''s attack.
Meanwhile, a Gloomfang launched itself at Tyler from the bushes. Tyler ducked, dropping to his knees, narrowly avoiding the attack. The Gloomfang landed behind him. Tyler quickly rose, turning as he swung his axe. The Crimson Wolf attempted a surprise attack from behind, but the axe''s sharp edge met the level 21 Gloomfang''s jaw, tearing its mouth open and killing it instantly.
A system panel appeared: Level Up! Tyler couldn''t help but smile.
Suddenly, a Crimson Wolf and three Gloomfangs burst from the bushes. Before Tyler could react, a Brolin appeared beside him, using its Bash skill to strike his axe-holding shoulder. The impact sent Tyler sprawling, his axe flying from his grasp. Mid-fall, Tyler reacted swiftly. He unequipped his Shine Armor and equipped his Gloom Armor. Using his hand to brace his fall, he propelled himself upward, spinning to land on his feet.
Tyler activated his Rush skill as the creatures, seeing he was weaponless, attacked. The Brolin curled into a ball, launching itself at Tyler. Tyler''s eyes flashed blue for a moment as he met the level 14 Brolin with a powerful fist, shattering the creature instantly. As the other creatures attacked, Tyler''s discarded axe reappeared in his hands. With a roar, he swung the axe with both hands, using all his strength. The axe-head cleaved through the heads of all four creatures simultaneously.
Three system messages appeared: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Tyler was surprised by the triple level-up. Examining the corpses, he saw they were levels 40, 39, 42, and 19. He looked around and commanded, "Extract!" The creatures'' hides vanished into his inventory.
Tyler looked for Grone, spotting two dead Hexhorns and a Crimson Wolf in the distance. Grone was currently battling a Gloomfang. Just as Tyler started to move to help, a Gloomfang launched itself from behind, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. A sharp pain shot through Tyler as he groaned, grabbing the Gloomfang by the neck and throwing it away. He saw blood welling up from the wound in his shoulder.
Tyler looked at the level 32 Gloomfang, his knees slightly bent, his axe held firmly in both hands. The Gloomfang''s eyes turned red, then it began bleeding profusely, looking disoriented. It stumbled, howled in pain, coughed blood, and finally collapsed, dead. Tyler was surprised. A system panel appeared: Achievement Unlocked: Use Poison Blood. +5 HP. He remembered his new skill. *My skill must have been active this whole time,* he thought. *I should keep it that way. If they attack me, my poison will affect them.*
He heard more sounds and turned to see a level 24 Slither emerging from the bushes, slithering rapidly toward Tyler''s foot. Tyler jumped back, and with a swift swing of his axe, he severed the Slither''s head.
He turned to help Grone. As he ran towards Grone, he suddenly felt an invisible force, like a gust of wind, strike his chest, sending him stumbling backward. He used his hands to break his fall, quickly sitting up and rising to his feet. Looking up, he saw three Elin Birds circling high above.
*Seriously? Why the hell is this happening?* he thought, recalling his use of the Radiant Burst skill. *Did that light attract all these creatures?* he wondered. *They''re too high up; I can''t reach them¡*
A system panel appeared: Armor has taken too much damage. Durability drastically decreased.
Tyler looked up, thinking, *This means if I take one more hit, I won''t be able to use Rush. But wait, what am I thinking? I just killed a bunch of Gloomfangs. I can craft another armor.* He muttered, "System, craft Gloom Armor."
The system responded: Crafting¡ Tyler ignored the loading bar as he ran to Grone. A Gloomfang lunged at Grone, but Grone reacted swiftly, swinging his sword upward, slashing the Gloomfang across its stomach. The creature fell, howling in pain before going still.
Tyler arrived behind Grone. "These creatures are probably coming because of the skill you used earlier," Grone said.
"Yeah, I just noticed," Tyler replied.
Grone looked up at the Elin circling above. "How the hell are we going to beat that?" Tyler asked.
Grone roared, swinging his sword upward, unleashing his Slash skill. The Elin, sensing the invisible attack, scattered, dodging the blow. "Just as i thought," Grone said. "These creatures can see my attacks. There''s only one thing we can do."
As Grone spoke, a system message appeared for Tyler: Crafting Successful.
"We''ll have to go into a denser part of the forest," Grone said, already running toward the denser part of the forest. "Let''s go!"
Tyler followed as the Elin began using their skills. The first Elin produced a Cyclone Wing, a powerful gust of wind. Tyler jumped to the left as the skill slammed into the ground, ruffling his hair. The second Elin unleashed another Cyclone Wing, aimed at Grone. Grone jumped forward, rolling as the wind swept past him and toward Tyler, forcing Tyler to abruptly halt and then resume his run.
They plunged into the dense forest, the trees now blocking out the sky and concealing them from the Elin. Suddenly, Grone stopped, and Tyler stopped beside him. They were met with the sight of numerous Gloomfangs, more than ten, their blue fur gleaming, growling menacingly. Levels appeared above each creature''s head, and Tyler''s heart pounded in his chest.
Grone stepped back, whispering, "Okay, on my signal, we run. Back to the open area." Tyler nodded, his eyes fixed on the creatures.
A high-pitched chirp, like a hawk''s cry, came from above. Grone said, "Now!"
Both Tyler and Grone turned and ran, the fourteen Gloomfangs hot on their heels.
As Tyler and Grone left the dense forest, Tyler mentally commanded, "Equip new Gloom Armor." His damaged armor was instantly replaced with a fresh, undamaged set. Seeing Grone a few steps ahead, Tyler activated his Rush skill. In an instant, he caught up, running beside Grone. Grone was surprised; Tyler was now matching his speed.
They burst into the open, the pursuing Gloomfangs clearly visible behind them. The Elin, spotting them, unleashed another Cyclone Wing attack. Tyler glanced back; the formless but visible wind slammed into the ground, knocking over several Gloomfangs but failing to kill them. He continued running alongside Grone.
Grone looked up at the Elin, then swung his sword upward, activating his Slash skill. The attack struck one of the Elin, severing its wing and sending it plummeting to the ground.
"Let''s stop here," Grone said. "You can still fight, right?"
"Yes," Tyler replied, gripping his axe with both hands. "I still have plenty of stamina left."
"That''s good," Grone said. "But remember, you''ll be fighting and dodging the Elin''s skills simultaneously. Can you handle that?"
"Of course," Tyler said confidently. He and Grone charged toward the Gloomfangs.
With most of the Gloomfangs being over level 30, and with his Rush skill and Poison Blood active, Tyler stopped. Grone swung his sword, unleashing another Slash attack aimed at the Gloomfangs in front of them. One Gloomfang dodged to the left, but the Slash struck a smaller one, severing its leg. The injured Gloomfang howled in pain.
Grone, while running, yelled to Tyler, "Don''t stop, keep moving!"
Before Tyler could respond, a wing Cyclone slammed down beside him, sending him sprawling. He rolled, quickly getting to his feet, only to find the Gloomfangs closing in. He swung his axe, but missed. As the Gloomfangs jumped back, Tyler stood his ground, axe held high, watching the growling creatures. He glanced at Grone, who was skillfully dodging the Elin''s wing Cyclone attacks. The wind from the skill wasn''t damaging the ground, but it was dispersing, pushing things out of its way.
A whooshing sound alerted Tyler to another incoming wing Cyclone , aimed directly at him. He roared, charging into the pack of Gloomfangs. A powerful swing of his axe to the left missed some, but decapitated a level 35 Gloomfang.
Tyler yelled, "Extract!" as he ran, swinging his axe to the right. Four Gloomfangs in his path leaped back. *Their reactions are so fast,* he thought. *Did they all activate Rush?*
Before he could answer his own question, a Gloomfang bit his leg from behind. He groaned, spun around, and swung his axe, narrowly missing the Gloomfang; the axe''s edge grazed its nose as it retreated. As he turned to face that Gloomfang, more attacked from behind¡ªone biting his waist, another biting the back of his knee.
Grone saw Tyler''s predicament and tried to reach him, but five Gloomfangs blocked his path. *I could use Slash on these Gloomfangs attacking Tyler,* he thought, *but I need to save my mana for those Elin.*
A Gloomfang lunged at Grone. He deflected it with a downward slash to the left, severing its jaw. Before he could recover, another Gloomfang bit his wrist, its teeth sinking deep. Grone pulled back his sword and thrust it through the Gloomfang''s abdomen. The creature howled and fell.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Tyler quickly turned, swinging his axe, throwing off the Gloomfangs biting him. The one that had bitten his leg began bleeding from its eyes and mouth; the others that had bitten him also started bleeding. All three died instantly, dropping silently. A system message appeared: Level Up! Tyler ignored it as his wounds began to heal. He swung his axe at the Gloomfang in front of him, using his right leg to propel himself forward, his eyes flashing blue. The axe met the Gloomfang''s neck; it tried to dodge but failed. As the Gloomfang died, Tyler commanded, "Extract!" The Gloomfangs'' hides vanished into his inventory. Another Level Up! message appeared.
Looking toward Grone, Tyler was suddenly hit hard in the back, falling to his knees. He braced his fall with his hands, realizing it was a Wing Cyclone from an Elin. The Elin, seeing Tyler vulnerable and the Gloomfangs closing in, dived toward him.
Grone saw his chance. A Gloomfang lunged at him, but Grone swung his sword to the left, cutting it down. Another Gloomfang tried a low attack, but Grone swung his sword vertically, splitting its head. He immediately raised his sword, using Slash, striking the Elin in midair.
The Elin shrieked, a high-pitched cry that cut through the sounds of the battle, as it plummeted from the sky. The creature impacted with bone-jarring force against a Gloomfang, momentarily stunning it before the beast collapsed. Tyler, seizing the fleeting opportunity, sprang to his feet, only to feel the searing pain of another Gloomfang''s teeth sinking into his hand. A low growl vibrated through the creature''s jaws as it relentlessly tugged.
With a guttural roar, Tyler reacted instantly. He twisted, using the momentum of the attack to hurl the Gloomfang into another charging from behind. The impact sent both creatures sprawling, momentarily disoriented. A third Gloomfang, sensing an opening, launched itself from Tyler''s left flank. But Tyler was ready. A lightning-fast right hook, a blur of motion, connected with the creature''s jaw with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed from the Gloomfang''s nose as it collapsed, its body convulsing before falling still.
The Gloomfang that had been biting Tyler''s hand convulsed, its eyes rolling back in its head as a fresh wave of blood welled from its wounds. With a final shudder, it released its grip, falling limp to the ground. Tyler felt the sting of the wounds, but the adrenaline surging through him masked the pain. He registered the silent fall of the level 19 Gloomfang he''d struck, a testament to the raw power of his blow.
Grone, sensing the shift in the tide, charged forward, his movements a deadly ballet of precision and power. Two Gloomfangs remained, their eyes wide with fear as they attempted a desperate retreat. But Grone was relentless. As he prepared to unleash his devastating Slash, a Wing Cyclone slammed into him, sending him reeling. He staggered, but his gaze locked onto the remaining Elin, its wings still beating furiously. Tyler turned and saw the Elin brought down by Grone wasn''t dead yet he ran to it and brought his axe down in a brutal arc, striking the creature''s head.
The system alerted Tyler: Level Up! He breathed heavily, watching his wounds heal. *I killed that Gloomfang with one strike,* he thought, examining his hand. *Did my strength increase that much?*
Grone approached. "There''s one more left," he said, gesturing towards the Elin hovering in the air, seemingly motionless. "It must have run out of mana," Grone added.
"So these creatures can run out of mana too, huh?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah," Grone replied, "every living thing can." He paused. "Well, it''s not going to attack us. Let''s go."
They continued deeper into the forest. Grone looked at Tyler. "I don''t think you should ever use that skill of yours again," he said.
"Yeah," Tyler agreed, "it really shouldn''t be used if it attracts this many monsters." He paused, a thought striking him. "Oh, I almost forgot. It''s about this necklace," he said, holding up the pendant.
"I wanted to ask about that before we got attacked. What does it do exactly?" Grone said.
Tyler smiled. "Well, I just leveled up a lot recently. Actually, I leveled up seven times in that fight."
"Seven times, huh?" Grone said, surprised.
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. He noticed Grone''s level had changed to 62. "You leveled up¡ thrice?" he asked, a little disappointed.
Grone smiled. "I leveled up three times, huh? And you said you leveled up¡ what¡ seven times?"
Tyler interrupted, "Yeah, it''s because of this necklace. You see, every time I kill a monster, I get experience, right? That allows me to level up. But this necklace has an effect that gives me an additional 30% of the monster''s XP. That''s why I leveled up so fast."
Grone considered this. "An additional 30%," he mused. "That would explain it." Tyler continued, "And I just thought about this. What if I make one for you?"
"Making one for me, huh?" Grone said, intrigued but cautious. "Well, I don''t know. Would it work?"
"Well, I''m not really sure," Tyler admitted. "I haven''t seen anyone try on my accessory." He touched the back of his necklace, unclipped it, placed it in his palm, and extended his hand to Grone. "Try it on."
Grone hesitated. "I don''t think this is going to work, kid," he said, starting to walk away.
"What do you mean?" Tyler persisted. "What if it does work? You could never know. I know you''ve tried a lot of things, Grone, but if this works, this might change everything."
Grone sighed. "I don''t want to raise my hopes up for nothing, alright?"
"Raise your hopes for nothing?" Tyler countered. "This thing worked for me, and it could work for you too. I mean, you haven''t even tried it on."
"You said you''ve tried some things and they didn''t work. You''ve tried a lot of things. Well, this is just going to be one of them, okay? I mean, shouldn''t you try every option there is?"
Grone turned around, cutting Tyler off. "All right," he said. Tyler smiled, relieved. "Okay, take it." He extended his hand. Grone took the necklace and put it on, the pendant resting behind his neck.
A system panel instantly appeared before Tyler: A non-user has equipped user''s accessory. Permission is needed for accessory to take effect. Tyler was surprised; despite Grone''s skepticism, the system showed promise. Does the user give permission?* the system asked.
"Yes," Tyler replied. The panel vanished.
Grone felt a slight sting in his chest, then touched the pendant dangling there. "What''s happening?" he muttered.
The system panel reappeared: Azeroth''s Curse decreased by 30 percent.
Tyler''s eyes widened. "Azeroth''s curse?," he muttered.
Grone stood straighter, feeling better. "What was that?" he asked.
"Grone, I think you''re cursed," Tyler said.
"Why do you say that? And what was that just now? I feel¡ different," Grone said, a hint of wonder in his voice.
Tyler smiled. "Looks like the necklace is working on you."
"Does that mean¡" Grone began, but Tyler interrupted. "Um, no, I just said you''re cursed."
"I told you earlier that I''m not cursed," Grone said. "We''ve never known what it is."
"The system told me so," Tyler replied. "It said something about Azeroth''s curse. Do you know anything about that?"
Grone was taken aback. "Azeroth?" he murmured, looking down. "I don''t know about *his* curse, but everyone knows about Azeroth. Azeroth was a demon my father fought fifty years ago when the Kingdom of Payne tried to invade the southern kingdoms."
"The Kingdom of Payne?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Grone confirmed. "It''s in the east. Back then, fifty years ago, Payne''s great mages managed to transform one of their followers into the demon lord Azeroth. My father was the one who defeated him¡ªthat''s how his name became known throughout the land, as the hero who defeated the demon lord Azeroth. But what you say doesn''t make sense. You say I have Azeroth''s curse, but I shouldn''t. If Azeroth cursed my father, the curse should have ended with him. He should have died with it. The curse shouldn''t have ended up with me. What is this curse?"
Tyler stroked his chin. "I''m not sure," he admitted, "but it probably has something to do with XP. Since this necklace gives an additional 30% XP from killing monsters, when I gave it to you, it said it reduced Azeroth''s curse by 30%."
"So this Azeroth''s curse must be the one holding me back from leveling up," Grone said, thoughtfully.
"Yeah, it seems so," Tyler agreed. "You know when I told you that every time I kill a monster, 25% of my XP is cut? Well, when I wore this, that handicap was removed, and I actually gained 5%¡ª25 minus 30 is 5%. So I wonder how much of your XP was being cut. And now that I think about it, you said even training was hard. So it''s not only about killing monsters, it''s also about training. In every way you gained XP, it was reduced."
"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," Grone said, removing the necklace.
"What are you doing?" Tyler asked.
"Well, I''m giving this back to you," Grone replied.
"But you can have it," Tyler protested. "It can help you level up more."
"What level are you?" Grone asked.
"I''m currently level 47," Tyler answered.
Grone was slightly surprised but didn''t show it much. "You''re three levels away from becoming C-rank. I''m not going to take this away from you now. You should wear this until you''re C-rank, and then you''ll give it to me, all right?"
Tyler looked at Grone, a little skeptical. He felt like Grone was being less than truthful. "All right," he said slowly, taking the necklace back. He put it on, and they continued walking.
"Wait a minute," Tyler said, stopping Grone.
"What is it?" Grone asked.
"I think I just found my mission''s target," Tyler replied.
Grone looked ahead. A large green tail, covered in scales, disappeared into the bushes. "Really?" he murmured.
"I think I have to go a little closer to see its level," Tyler said.
He and Grone cautiously approached. A system message appeared above the hidden creature: *Level 59 Draco*. Tyler stopped, his heart pounding. *That thing is like thirteen levels above me,* he thought.
"What level is it?" Grone asked.
"It''s a level 59," Tyler replied.
"C-rank," Grone stated. "And you were supposed to hand in a D-rank, weren''t you?"
"Yes," Tyler said, "but I don''t think we can let this go, right?"
"Of course not," Grone agreed, taking a step forward. He unsheathed his sword, drawing it back before swinging it in a wide arc to the right, unleashing his Slash skill. The invisible, curved blade of wind sliced through the bushes, striking the Draco in its flank.
The Draco shrieked, turning swiftly. It extended its forked tongue, tasting the air, its black eyes fixed on Tyler and Grone.
Tyler''s axe materialized, and he stood ready. Activating Rush, he charged as the Draco lunged. Grone unleashed Slash, but the Draco rolled aside, evading the attack. This surprised Tyler.
Tyler charged, swinging his axe horizontally. The Draco caught the axe''s head in its jaws, yanking it from Tyler''s grip and spitting it away. It lunged low at Tyler''s foot, but Tyler leaped back, his axe reappearing in his hand.
The Draco turned its attention to Grone. *I don''t have any more mana for Slash or Piercing,* Grone thought. He parried the Draco''s attacks, forcing it backward with a series of precise sword strikes.
Seeing his chance, Tyler ran to Grone''s back. He planted his axe''s head in the ground, using the momentum of his run to propel himself upward, leaping over Grone and landing behind the Draco. Before the creature could react, he swung his axe downwards, catching its long tail.
The Draco shrieked in pain, turning it''s attention towards Tyler. Grone, seizing the moment, sliced into the Draco''s jaw with his sword.
Tyler quickly rammed his axe into the Draco''s back; it shrieked. He swiftly withdrew the axe and brought it down in a final blow. The Draco shrieked once more before falling still. Tyler breathed heavily, standing behind the fallen beast.
"It wasn''t a match for the both of us," Grone said.
"Yeah," Tyler agreed. A system message appeared before Tyler. Level up!
"We need to keep moving," Grone said. "It''s probably to the left. Let''s go."
Tyler commanded, "Extract!" The Draco''s hide vanished into his inventory, leaving behind the bleeding carcass.
"How do you know where it is?" Tyler asked.
"Hunters share information with each other," Grone explained. "If you don''t know this information, you might run into a Gloomfang or Crimson Wolf den without knowing it. So we tell each other where they are to be cautious."
"So you know the direction even amongst all these trees?" Tyler asked.
"Yes, of course," Grone replied. "They really explained it in detail. It''s past the river; if you keep going straight, you''ll see a clearing. The clearing we were in¡ªremember that, where we fought all those monsters?"
"Yeah, I do," Tyler said. "When you get into the dense part of the forest, you''ll see a lot of bushes close together. That''s where we just fought the Draco."
"Yeah, but this was my first time seeing those bushes," Tyler added.
"Well, it''s probably because we haven''t come this way before," Grone said. "Anyways, after the bushes, you go left. After that, we''ll probably run into some tall trees, and then we''ll need to keep going straight."
They entered a less dense area, more open with tall, slender trees, letting in more sunlight. "We''ll be close," Grone said.
"You have to prepare yourself," Grone instructed.
"Oh, hold on," Tyler said, stopping Grone. A potion materialized in his hand. "We never got to use these." He handed one to Grone. "Here."
Grone took the potion. "Drink it," Tyler said. "I''m sure it will heal you."
Grone didn''t hesitate. He drank the potion, and felt a strange, unfamiliar taste. It wasn''t unpleasant, but odd. A wave of relief washed over him as his skin glowed green for a moment before dimming. He looked at his wrist; the wound was completely healed.
Tyler smiled. "Huh, so it works."
Grone stared at Tyler, surprised. "Wait, you didn''t know it would work?"
"Um, well, I''ve never tested it on anyone else before, so¡" Tyler admitted.
As Grone examined his healed scar, they heard a growl. A Crimson Wolf appeared in the distance.
Grone glanced at Tyler. "We''re close," he said, his voice low and steady.
Tyler''s axe materialized in his hands, the polished steel gleaming in the dappled sunlight. He looked at the lone Crimson Wolf¡ªa level 42¡ªits fur the color of dried blood, its eyes burning with predatory intensity. The unexpected solitude of the beast was unsettling. It launched itself at them with a ferocious snarl. Tyler met the charge head-on, his movements a blur of controlled aggression. With a brutal, precise swing, his axe cleaved through the wolf''s neck, severing its head in a single, clean stroke. He instantly commanded, "Extract!" and the crimson hide vanished into his inventory.
They took a few more steps, and then they entered the clearing. The ground was uneven, pitted with holes and crevices, the earth churned and scarred from past battles. Tyler''s heart hammered against his ribs. More than twenty Crimson Wolves¡ªa sea of crimson fur and bared fangs¡ªstood before them, their eyes burning with a cold, predatory light. In the distance, a colossal Crimson Wolf, easily the size of a cow, sat observing the scene, its massive frame radiating an aura of raw power. A stark red system message blazed across Tyler''s vision: WARNING: Boss Level Monster¡ªCrimson Alpha, Level 70. The alpha let out a guttural growl that vibrated through the clearing, a sound that spoke of ancient savagery and untamed power.
Tyler''s grip tightened on his axe, his knuckles white. The axe trembled slightly in his hand. Grone, sensing Tyler''s apprehension, reached out and covered Tyler''s hand, his touch firm and reassuring. Tyler looked at Grone; his friend''s face was calm, his eyes steady and unwavering. The sight steadied Tyler''s nerves. He took a deep breath, the tension slowly ebbing away, and activated his Rush skill. The pack of Crimson Wolves, sensing the challenge, let out a chorus of enraged growls, and they charged, a wave of crimson fury unleashed upon their unsuspecting prey. The alpha, a silent observer, watched from its vantage point, its massive form a monument to the danger that lay ahead.
The first Crimson Wolf launched itself at Tyler. He met the attack with a horizontal swing of his axe, cleaving the wolf''s jaw. Another wolf lunged at Grone from the side. He twisted, his sword flashing, severing the wolf''s leg and slicing deep into its abdomen. Two more wolves attacked Tyler simultaneously. His eyes flashed blue as he swung his axe, striking both creatures at once. Another wolf bit his leg, then recoiled, as if tasting something unpleasant. A system message appeared: *Level Up!* His heart pounded; the wolf that bit him was level 52.
He glanced at Grone, who was a whirlwind of motion, his sword a blur as he parried and countered the wolves'' attacks. They were relentless, but Grone''s skill kept them at bay. Every time a wolf managed to sink its teeth into his clothing, he''d throw it off with a swift, powerful strike. Tyler, however, found himself increasingly distracted by the alpha. It simply watched, seemingly unconcerned as its pack was decimated. *What is it doing?* Tyler wondered. *Isn''t that thing supposed to lead its pack?*
Another Crimson Wolf attacked from behind, its teeth sinking into Tyler''s shoulder.
Tyler seized the wolf clamped to his shoulder, his muscles bulging with the effort. With a guttural roar, he gripped the creature''s neck and slammed it forward with brutal force. The wolf''s body slammed into the ground with a sickening thud, rebounding into the air, a high-pitched howl escaping its throat. In a blur of motion, Tyler swung his axe, the steel gleaming, and brought it down in a brutal, vertical arc. The axe sliced through the air, meeting its target with a sickening *schwing* as the wolf was cleaved in two, its body parts falling to the ground.
A grim satisfaction settled over him as he thought, *These Crimson Wolves are fast, but with Rush activated, they''re noticeably slower. They lack a speed-enhancing skill, it seems.*
He became a blurring whirlwind of motion, a deadly dance of steel and fury. Running at full speed, he unleashed a swift, horizontal swing of his axe, sending one wolf''s head flying. With a lightning-fast leftward swing, he dispatched another. He twisted and turned mid-run, his feet a whirlwind, his body a symphony of controlled power and lethal grace. The axe rotated between his hands, a deadly dance of steel, before a final, devastating downward swing cleaved another wolf''s head from its body.
Two system messages appeared, stark and clear against his vision: Level Up! User has obtained a new skill: Chamber
Chapter 56: The Crimson Harvest
Surrounded by the Crimson Wolves, Tyler''s eyes darted, adrenaline surging through him. He gripped his long iron axe, two hands braced, ready to meet the next attack. *I just obtained another skill,* he thought, but the thought was cut short as a wolf lunged. He swung his axe, forcing the wolf back. Two more attacked from behind. He swung his axe, twisting to graze one wolf''s jaw, sending it howling in retreat. Then, a *thought* struck him.
"Alright," Tyler muttered, placing his palm on the iron axe''s sharpened edge. He slid his hand along the blade, the iron cutting into his flesh. Blood coated the axe head, dripping down. Pain shot through his palm, but he gripped the axe once more, his resolve hardening. *My Rush skill time is going to deplete,* he thought, *but I can always reactivate it.*
A deep growl echoed, different from the others¡ªcalmer, yet more menacing. The Crimson Alpha was no longer sitting; it stood on all fours, its massive form radiating a palpable threat. Tyler''s heart pounded; his senses sharpened. Just as he felt his Rush skill''s duration end, he reactivated it.
Grone held his sword, ready to strike. He saw Tyler, axe clutched tight, blood blooming on his hand and shoulder. His gaze snapped back to the eight wolves converging on him. One lunged low, aiming for his legs. He reacted instantly, leaping back with a powerful thrust of his legs, his back slamming against the unforgiving bark of the tree. He was trapped.
A grim calculation formed in his mind. *My mana has been recovering. I have enough now.* He swung his sword in a wide, arcing slash to the right, unleashing the full fury of his Slash skill. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he poured his remaining mana into the attack. The air itself seemed to crackle with energy as an invisible, razor-sharp crescent of pure force tore through the space before him. A silent scream of power, a deadly scythe of energy, the Slash tore through the pack of wolves. The air vibrated with the force of the blow, the sound of rending flesh and bone a muted whisper compared to the raw power unleashed. The wolves, caught in the path of the devastating attack, were cleaved in two, their bodies falling in a macabre rain. The invisible blade vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the aftermath of its brutal efficiency.
Tyler heard the wolves'' agonized howls, a chorus of pain and death. Grone gasped for breath, his body screaming in protest. *Releasing all that mana at once¡ my Slash skill drains my stamina,* he thought, the taste of exertion heavy in his mouth. The familiar tingle of a level-up pulsed through him, a small victory in the face of overwhelming odds. But the fatigue from the Gloomfangs and the Crimson Wolves weighed heavily on him. He knew, with the cold certainty of experience, that the fight was far from over, and that any lapse in focus, any moment of weakness, would be his last.
Tyler looked at Grone, who was breathing hard, his chest heaving. Surprise was etched on Tyler''s face at the devastating power of Grone''s Slash attack. He noticed the number 63 hovering above Grone''s head¡ªhe''d leveled up. Distracted, Tyler didn''t see the wolves until they were upon him. Several launched themselves at him. He swung his axe in a powerful upward arc to the left, catching one wolf in mid-air. But others attacked¡ªone biting his backside, another his elbow, and a third his leg.
He roared, a sound raw with pain and fury, twisting his body to throw off the wolf clamped to his back. Grone, seeing Tyler''s plight, ran to his aid. The remaining wolves, sensing an opportunity, swarmed Grone. He saw at least ten left. Gripping his sword with both hands, he braced himself. Two wolves attacked¡ªone aiming for his legs, the other leaping for his face. With a swift, upward swing, he cleaved the wolf on the ground, the momentum carrying the blade upward to bisect the wolf aiming for his face.
Grone was surprised as the wolves that had bitten Tyler vomited blood, blood tears streaming from their eyes. They shuddered, howled, and died. A system message appeared before Tyler: Level Up!Only two wolves remained before him; two more faced Grone. Both men were breathing hard, their chests heaving. The four remaining wolves retreated to the Alpha''s side. Tyler remained puzzled by the Alpha''s inaction.
Grone moved to Tyler''s side, sword held ready, Tyler with his axe. Both men, breathing heavily, stared at the Crimson Alpha and its remaining pack. The Alpha simply stood there.
"Do you have any idea why it''s just standing there?" Tyler asked, his breath ragged.
"Every hunter knows a Crimson Alpha hunts alone," Grone replied.
"But we just massacred its pack," Tyler said. "Shouldn''t it be enraged?"
"Yeah, well, it doesn''t matter," Grone said. "My mana is recovering; I''ll use this to my advantage."
"Well, I can''t wait," Tyler said. "My Rush skill is running out. Looks like we''re going to be the first ones to attack."
Something unexpected interrupted him.
A system message flashed: Crimson Alpha has used skill: Blur. Grone and Tyler were taken aback. The Crimson Alpha vanished in an instant.
"Where''d it¡ª" Tyler began, but his words were cut short. The Alpha reappeared before him, its massive paw descending in a blur of motion. Claws ripped through his Gloom armor, tearing into his abdomen. The force of the blow sent him flying backward, his back slamming against a tree. A system message appeared: 100 HP lost. Armor durability drastically decreased. Blood poured from his mouth as he clutched his wound.
Grone reacted instantly, his eyes tracking the Alpha''s movement. *I saw it coming, but I was too slow,* he thought, whirling to face the four remaining wolves closing in. The Alpha was gone again, but a whooshing sound echoed from all directions.
Grone couldn''t reach Tyler; he had to face the approaching wolves. He swung his sword, cleaving one wolf''s jaw before it could fully attack, killing it instantly.
The searing pain in his abdomen was a stark reminder of the Alpha''s power. *One hundred HP gone,* Tyler thought grimly, the cold dread of death momentarily eclipsing the adrenaline still coursing through him. *And my armor''s toast.* He didn''t waste a second. The familiar cool weight of a healing potion materialized in his hand, a welcome contrast to the burning agony. The system message pinged: Achievement Unlocked: C-Rank Hunter. +30 points to each stat. His Rush skill had already expired.
A wave of relief washed over him, quickly followed by a surge of potent energy. The numbers didn''t fully capture it, but he felt stronger, faster, more resilient. His strength would be over 200; his stamina and agility would also drastically increase. The boost felt monumental, like fifteen levels all at once. Hope, a flickering flame moments before, now burned bright.
The ground shook as the remaining crimson wolves charged *at Grone*, a blur of red fur and bared fangs. Tyler watched, adrenaline surging, as the Alpha launched its attack. He barely registered the Alpha''s attack as he instinctively activated launched himself out of the way. The sound of the Alpha''s paw impacting the ancient tree was deafening, the tree exploding in a shower of splinters. The earth trembled as the massive trunk crashed to the ground.
Tyler stood, adrenaline still surging, the near-miss a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He brought the potion to his lips, the sharp, bitter taste a momentary distraction from the pain. As he drank, the warmth spread through his body, chasing away the lingering chill of fear. The empty vial vanished into his inventory with a faint shimmer. He gripped his axe, the familiar weight a source of comfort and strength. The Alpha, its ears now pricked, its gaze narrowed, a frown furrowing its brow, had noticed the change in Tyler. It had sensed his increased speed, the newfound power. The Alpha''s muscles tensed, ready to strike. The air crackled with anticipation.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Suddenly, the Crimson Alpha leaped back as an invisible blade of wind sliced through the air, narrowly missing it and cleaving the stump of the shattered tree. Tyler¡¯s gaze shot to Grone, who stood panting, sword held loosely at his side, his eyes fixed on Tyler. The last of the crimson wolves lay dead at Grone''s feet. It was now just the two of them against the Alpha.
The Alpha, growling low in its chest, turned its attention to Grone. A system message appeared before Tyler: *Crimson Alpha has used skill: Blur*. The Alpha vanished, its paws churning the earth as it launched itself forward.
Tyler¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs. He wasn''t sure Grone could evade the attack. He ran, a few feet behind the Alpha''s deadly charge. Grone, seeing the Alpha''s approach and Tyler''s desperate pursuit, braced himself. He planted his right foot, his body coiled like a spring. His right hand gripped his sword, the blade pointed directly at the approaching Alpha, now only five feet away. He gathered his strength, pouring all his remaining mana into his arm and leg, and unleashed his Pierce skill.
Using his right leg, Grone launched himself forward, a blur of motion. The Alpha reacted instantly, its eyes tracking the deadly attack. Tyler saw the Alpha sidestep mid-run, the sword narrowly missing its face, grazing its jaw and slicing a shallow wound.
"Damn it, it dodged!" Grone thought, the bitter taste of failure filling his mouth. The Alpha, mere inches from its target, sank its teeth into Grone''s shoulder. A scream ripped from Grone''s lips as the Alpha''s massive jaws clamped down. The Alpha, having secured its grip, tossed Grone aside, sending him hurtling towards Tyler.
"Grone!" Tyler yelled, his heart leaping into his throat. He reacted instantly, holding his long iron axe in one hand, bracing himself for the impact. Grone''s body slammed against his chest, the force of the blow sending Tyler skidding backward. He managed to keep his footing, lowering Grone gently to the ground. Blood oozed from Grone''s shoulder, a horrifying pattern of puncture wounds marring the flesh. Tyler''s teeth clenched as he saw the severity of the injury. He laid Grone down carefully, his gaze fixed on the gaping wound.
A potion vial materialized in Tyler''s hand. He quickly brought it to Grone''s lips. "Drink this," he urged.
His gaze shifted to the Alpha, which growled, its eyes burning with predatory intensity. *It bit Grone, but it didn''t bite me,* Tyler thought, a chilling realization dawning on him. *It only wants to kill me with its claws. I knew something felt off. It''s smarter than the others. It figured out my blood is poison.*
He looked down at Grone, who was swallowing the last of the potion. The wound on Grone''s shoulder began to heal, the bleeding slowing, though the damage was far from fully repaired.
Grone grabbed Tyler''s hand. "What are you doing? You''re facing a boss monster! You don''t have time to worry about me. If that thing attacks¡ª"
His words were cut short. The Alpha charged. Tyler reacted instantly, using every ounce of his strength to shove Grone away, sending him sprawling. He launched himself backward as well, using his legs to propel him away from Grone as the Alpha passed between them, missing both.
The Alpha''s attention snapped back to Grone, who was now slowly rising to his feet. Tyler realized the Alpha was targeting Grone, sensing his vulnerability. Grone stood his ground, sword held ready, his gaze locked on the Alpha.
Tyler gripped his axe, a grim determination settling over him. *This thing knows that if it bites me, it''ll die from my poison blood,* he thought. *But does it know I poisoned my weapon too?*
He saw Grone wince, a slight shift in his stance betraying the pain in his injured shoulder. *Wait a minute,* Tyler thought, *I got a new skill earlier¡ what was it?*
The system message appeared: Chamber: Allows the user to create a protective dwelling by copying from any material the user holds. Can be used anywhere. Skill cooldown: 21 hrs.
Copy material? Tyler was stunned. He hadn''t anticipated such a versatile application. The system prompt appeared, asking him to select a material. His gaze fell upon his iron axe.
Distracted for only a moment, the Alpha lunged at Grone. Grone gritted his teeth, his body tensing as he braced for the attack, his sword held firm in both hands.
Tyler, without hesitation, mentally confirmed the material selection and raised his hand towards Grone. "CHAMBER!" he shouted.
Instantly, a small, iron box, reminiscent of a stall from Tyler''s old world, materialized around Grone. The Alpha''s jaws slammed into the unyielding iron, recoiling with a snarl, blood trickling from its snout. Both Tyler and Grone stared in astonishment. The box was completely enclosed, save for a small opening at the top. Grone was safely inside.
"What the hell is this?" Grone muttered, his hand touching the cool, smooth iron of the chamber''s interior. He looked around; the space was cramped, a perfect square roughly three meters wide. Tyler stared, surprised to see numbers floating above the iron chamber: *650 Defense*. He felt a slight pang of disappointment. A dwelling was supposed to be a house, not a small, cramped box. *Is that what the system calls a dwelling?* he thought. He hadn''t expected a house to appear, of course, but he hadn''t expected *this* either.
The Alpha, undeterred, stepped back and charged again, its claws slashing at the chamber. A loud clang echoed through the clearing as the Alpha''s claws left only shallow scratches on the iron. Tyler was impressed by the metal''s unexpected resilience, despite the chamber''s less-than-ideal size. It had, at least, successfully protected Grone.
The Alpha, frustrated, turned its attention to Tyler, who now stood poised, axe held ready. It charged. Tyler met the charge, sprinting towards the Alpha. The Alpha launched itself, claws extended, aiming for a devastating strike. But Tyler, mid-run, dropped to his knees, sliding across the grass, his axe grazing the Alpha''s leg as it lunged past.
The Alpha, momentarily off-balance, turned, revealing a shallow cut on its leg. "I hope this works," Tyler thought, his heart pounding. The Alpha didn''t hesitate, sprinting towards him, its skill already activated. Tyler, without flinching, ran straight at the crimson Alpha.
A few feet from the Alpha, Tyler planted the hilt of his axe into the earth, using the impact to launch himself upward in a powerful front flip. The Alpha''s claws, aimed for a killing blow, tore through the air where Tyler had been a moment before, the wind whistling past as it skidded across the ground. He landed silently behind the beast, his axe reappearing in his hand. He charged, a whirlwind of motion, his battle cry a guttural roar that echoed through the trees. With a ferocious bellow, he brought his axe down in a devastating arc. The axe made a shallow graze across the Alpha''s jaw, forcing it to recoil in pain and surprise.
"Damn it, just a graze," Tyler snarled, his frustration palpable. The Alpha moved erratically, its steps hesitant, its movements uncoordinated. *The poison''s working,* he realized, a grim satisfaction tightening his jaw.
He pressed his attack, launching himself forward, his axe a blur of deadly intent. The Alpha, sensing the imminent danger, reared back, its powerful front legs rising high before crashing down in a desperate attempt to rake Tyler with its claws. The massive paws descended, aiming to crush him beneath their weight. But Tyler, with a roar, met the attack head-on, his axe held high. The Alpha''s claws struck the axe hilt with bone-jarring force, the impact sending a shockwave up his arms, nearly wrenching the weapon from his grasp. He stumbled back, his boots gouging deep furrows into the earth, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He gritted his teeth, the pain a burning fire in his arms, and charged again, his battle cry a savage scream that echoed through the forest. Meanwhile, inside the chamber, Grone strained, his muscles screaming in protest, but his will unyielding. He heaved himself upwards, his hands finding purchase on the edge of the chamber''s opening. He pulled himself up his face grim with determination, his shoulder throbbing with pain.
Grone watched from inside the iron chamber, astonishment etched on his face. Outside, Tyler was pushing the Crimson Alpha back, a whirlwind of motion. His axe flashed, a blur of steel as he swung it upwards, downwards, to the left ¨C a dizzying display of skill and power. The Alpha, despite its size and ferocity, was on the defensive, struggling to keep up with Tyler''s relentless assault. Tyler roared with exertion, his movements fluid and powerful. Grone was shocked; Tyler was faster, significantly faster than he was, and he seemed to be accelerating, outpacing the Alpha''s attempts to react. Tyler''s axe, a deadly blur, now grazed the Alpha with each swing.
"It doesn''t look like he really needs my help," Grone murmured, a hint of awe in his voice.
A system message flashed before Tyler: Crimson Alpha has used skill: Claw. Before Tyler could react, the Alpha''s massive paw shot upwards, striking his axe with brutal force. The axe flew from his grasp, soaring through the air. The Alpha followed up instantly, its right paw connecting with Tyler''s chest, sending him crashing to the ground. Blood welled from his mouth as the Alpha lunged, its jaws snapping towards his neck. But with impossible speed, Tyler''s axe materialized in his hands. He blocked the Alpha''s bite, the Alpha''s teeth meeting the iron hilt with a sickening crunch. Gripping the axe with both hands, Tyler braced himself, pushing the Alpha''s head away from his neck, the Alpha''s jaws clamped firmly around the axe''s hilt. Grone, still inside the chamber, watched with a mixture of awe and concern, his hands still gripping the edge of the opening.
"I have to help him! Come on, what am I doing?" Grone thought, pushing himself out of the chamber. He used every ounce of his remaining strength, heaving himself upwards until half his body was out of the chamber. He tumbled to the ground outside, landing hard but quickly scrambling to his feet, sword drawn. Tyler was gritting his teeth, the Alpha now seemingly matching his strength.
Grone charged, unleashing a powerful upward slash from the left, activating his Slash skill. The invisible blade of wind whistled past, causing the Alpha''s ears to twitch as it sensed the imminent attack. The Alpha attempted to dodge, but its hampered movement prevented it from fully evading the blow. The Alpha''s right front leg was severed, a clean cut spraying blood. The Alpha howled in agony, its movement further hampered. It turned and fled, sprinting on three legs.
Grone reached Tyler, who was slowly rising to his feet. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Tyler coughed, a little blood staining his lips. "No, it''s getting away!"
"Wait!" Grone called out, but Tyler was already sprinting after the Alpha, a gust of wind seeming to trail his departure as his speed drastically increased. In moments, he was mere feet from the crippled Alpha.
The Alpha, running on three legs, saw its enemy approaching. Tyler hurled his axe, a deadly projectile. The axe found its mark, severing the Alpha''s remaining front leg. The Alpha crashed to the ground, rolling helplessly before slamming into a tree with a deafening thud, its escape thwarted.
As the crimson wolf howled in pain, Tyler arrived instantly, his axe materializing in his hand with a flash. With a brutal, efficient swing, he brought the axe down, severing the Alpha''s head. The system announced, in rapid succession: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Six levels in a row.
Relief washed over him as his injuries began to heal, his skin taking on a faint blue hue, the dim light reflecting off his now-glowing skin. He breathed heavily, the exertion still evident, as he looked down at the Alpha''s bleeding corpse on the forest floor.
Turning, he saw Grone approaching, a look of amazement on his face. Tyler smiled, "Are you alright?"
Grone walked towards him, his eyes wide with wonder. As he drew closer, Tyler saw the extent of the carnage surrounding them ¨C more than twenty dead crimson wolves, each with the word EXTRACT floating above their corpses, including the Alpha.
A slow smile spread across Tyler''s face. "EXTRACT," he murmured, the word a low hum of satisfaction.
Chapter 57: We Meet Again
(Earlier, Before The Crimson Alpha''s Fall)
In the heart of the forest, Bernardo stood amidst the carnage of a Gloomfang massacre. The air hung heavy with the coppery tang of blood. His dagger, slick with the dark crimson fluid, dripped onto the ground, staining the already blood-soaked earth. Blue fur, scattered like fallen confetti, littered the forest floor ¨C testament to the brutal efficiency of Gary and Steven. But the fight wasn''t over. The Alpha Gloomfang, a hulking behemoth of muscle and rage, still stood, its eyes burning with a predatory gleam.
Bernardo stole a glance at the two men before him. Steven, his chest heaving, his face pale, struggled to keep his sword upright, his body trembling with exhaustion. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead. Gary, in contrast, seemed almost amused, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched his brother''s struggle. "What''s wrong? Tired?" Gary''s voice was a low chuckle, laced with a hint of mockery. Steven gasped, a ragged breath catching in his throat, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he opened them again, his gaze fixed on the Alpha. "No," he managed to croak out, the word barely audible above the pounding of his own heart.
Gary shifted his attention back to the Alpha. The massive blue wolf, its flanks torn and bleeding, growled, a low rumble that vibrated through the forest floor. It took a hesitant step back, its eyes flickering between Gary and Steven, assessing their strength, gauging their resolve. Then, its gaze fell upon Bernardo, who stood silently behind them, his own fear a palpable presence in the tense air. The Alpha''s nostrils flared, picking up the scent of Bernardo''s terror. Bernardo''s mind raced, a frantic whirlwind of fear and desperation. *If that thing comes at me, I''m dead. Should I run?*
Before he could even consider his options, the Alpha launched itself, a blur of blue fur and razor-sharp claws, aiming to strike between the two brothers. Bernardo''s eyes widened, his body frozen in a moment of sheer terror. He couldn''t react. Then, as quickly as it began, the attack ended. All four of the Alpha''s legs were severed by Gary''s sword in a single, impossible strike. The Alpha howled in agony, its massive body skidding across the ground in a chaotic tumble, stopping only when its back slammed against Bernardo''s feet. Bernardo yelped, jumping back with a startled cry. He watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as Gary''s sword, having seemingly moved on its own, returned to its owner''s hand with a soft *thunk*. Steven and Gary stared, their mouths agape, at the impossible sight.
Gary turned to his little brother, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, what are you waiting for? You said you wanted to grow stronger, right? Well, go and kill the damn thing before it dies."
Steven, jolted from his stupor, straightened, his grip tightening on his sword. He charged, his movements surprisingly swift and decisive despite his earlier exhaustion. Bernardo watched, his eyes wide, as Steven reached the fallen Alpha, plunging his sword deep into its ear with a swift, precise thrust. A small, choked howl escaped the Alpha''s throat before it went still.
Steven, breathing heavily, pulled his sword free, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them, his expression transformed. A new skill, a flood of information, washed over him. He had reached D-Rank.
Bernardo watched, his gaze shifting to Gary. "How did you do that? Was that another skill?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.
Gary grinned, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. "Yeah, obviously. It''s called Sword Control. It allows me to move my sword however I like, without even touching it." He demonstrated, letting his sword dangle in the air before it began to move on its own, levitating and spinning horizontally before he smoothly caught it by the hilt. "It''s a very useful skill," he admitted, "but it has its disadvantages."
Steven, still catching his breath, turned to Gary. "Huh? That''s funny. I got a skill that''s just similar to yours just now."
Gary''s eyebrows shot up. "Huh? So you got into D-Rank, huh?"
Steven nodded, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, I got into D-Rank."
Bernardo, his curiosity piqued, turned to Steven. "So, what is the skill that you got?"
"''It''s called Retrieve''," Steven explained. "It lets me summon anything I deem mine next to me. Which means..." He opened his palm, a faint green light emanating from his hand before a simple drinking cup materialized. He chuckled, looking down at the cup. "Would you look at that? It''s my cup."
Gary''s face fell. His disappointment was palpable. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you telling me you couldn''t even get a combat skill? What the hell does Retrieve have to do with you getting stronger?"
Steven shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, it has a big advantage. I mean, if I lose my weapon, I can just retrieve it immediately, right? At this point, I''m always armed, even if I don''t have anything on me."
Gary facepalmed, muttering, "Then how is this even similar to my skill?"
"Well," Steven continued, "if you deem anything yours ¨C your sword, for example ¨C then you can control it, right? That means you could control two swords, or three, if I''m not mistaken. It''s similar to mine because if I deem anything mine, then I can summon it."
Gary considered this, a thoughtful expression replacing his earlier frustration. "So that means they have the same disadvantages. I can''t just *deem* anything mine; I have to truly *feel* that it''s mine to control it. I can''t just say it''s mine and then control it; I have to actually think that it belongs to me, a hundred percent."
Steven nodded, understanding dawning on his face.
Gary sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. "Well, at least you got stronger."
"I mean, what the hell would I expect from a D-Rank skill?" Gary muttered, more to himself than to Steven. He then turned to Bernardo. "Hey, Bernardo," Gary called out.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Bernardo, who had been watching them, responded, "What is it?"
"You haven''t been doing much work while we were with you," Gary stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "And we promised we''d split the reward. So... it''s only fair for you to remove the monster''s hides, isn''t it?"
Bernardo hesitated. "But I''m not even a hunter. I don''t know how to remove an animal''s hide."
Gary chuckled, a dismissive sound. "Oh, no, it''s simple. I''ll just show you." He unsheathed his dagger, approaching the fallen Alpha. With a practiced hand, he sunk the dagger into the Alpha''s gut, then expertly slid the blade along the creature''s underside, opening the skin. He looked back at Bernardo. "See? It''s that easy. Since you already have a dagger, I don''t think I need to give you this one. You just need to use yours."
Bernardo swallowed hard, his nervousness evident. "Fine."
He walked over to the Alpha, mimicking Gary''s movements, his own dagger finding purchase in the same spot. He crouched down, awkwardly beginning the task of skinning the Alpha.
Steven, impatient, called out, "Come on, man, make it quick. We need to head back."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, Grone looked around at the crimson wolves. Their hides shimmered blue, then vanished into Tyler''s inventory, leaving behind only their skinless carcasses. Tyler sighed, a weary sound echoed by Grone. Suddenly, a system panel appeared before Tyler, interrupting the silence.
Achievement Unlocked: Kill 80+ Monsters: +15 Str
Achievement Unlocked: Second Boss Monster Kill: +20 STM
Achievement Unlocked: Kill A Crimson Alpha: +20 AGL
The system panels appeared one after another, overlapping slightly, announcing Tyler''s achievements. He was surprised, but also felt the immediate effects ¨C a surge of strength and agility coursing through his body.
Grone looked at Tyler, answering his earlier question. "My shoulder is still bleeding a bit, but I''ll live."
Tyler nodded, a frown creasing his brow. "Right. I should have made more potions."
Grone waved a hand dismissively. "Not to worry about it." His gaze drifted towards the metal chamber Tyler had created earlier. "That thing over there... is that one of your skills?"
"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "While we were fighting the Crimson Alpha, I managed to get into C-Rank, and I got that as my new skill. At first, I wasn''t even sure how to use it, but when I read the description, I had no choice but to just use it and pray that whatever came out was able to stop the Alpha from killing you. Looks like it worked."
Grone smiled, a genuine expression of relief. "Well, thank goodness it worked. I would have been wolf meat if you hadn''t used your skill."
Tyler''s face remained serious, a shadow falling over his features as memories of Grone''s wife and daughter flickered through his mind. "Yeah..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Grone looked at the Crimson Alpha''s corpse and saw that it had no hide and also realized part of its head was missing, mainly the whole jaw was gone.
"The jaw is gone," Grone observed.
Tyler looked down at the Alpha''s remains. "Huh, it must be a material to craft some items." As he spoke, watching Grone, he noticed something different about the chamber behind Grone, a few feet away. The floating text box above it, which had previously read "650 Defence," now read "541 Defence."
"So that''s how it works," Grone mused. "You can use even the Alpha''s jaw to make a weapon, huh? And I gotta admit, the jaw is probably one of the toughest bones on the Alpha, including its fangs."
"Yeah..." Tyler murmured, passing Grone to approach the chamber. He placed his hand on the cool, dark metal, similar to the material of his axe. He rubbed his hand across the smooth iron, a thoughtful expression on his face. *Can this thing''s defense decrease?* he wondered, his gaze falling on the markings left by the Alpha''s paw from its earlier attack. *That means maybe if it didn''t give up, it would have destroyed it.*
Stepping back slightly, Tyler clenched his fist. Then, using all his strength, he punched the chamber wall. A loud *ting* echoed through the clearing, surprising Grone.
"What are you doing?" Grone asked.
Tyler removed his fist, examining the chamber. "I was just checking something. It looks like the more you hit this thing, the weaker it gets."
Tyler saw that the defense on the chamber was now 351. Grone leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean? I mean, isn''t it obvious?"
Tyler nodded, but his expression remained serious. "Yeah, it''s obvious when you hit something it becomes weaker, but, I mean, it''s kind of different here. I didn''t think it would react *that* way, because the durability itself is decreasing. I want to see what happens if the durability falls to zero. I want to see if this thing is going to break. And if it breaks, I want to see if it will disappear."
Grone frowned. "But aren''t you hurting yourself hitting that thing?"
Tyler glanced at the knuckles of his fist. "Oh no, I''m totally fine. In fact, I''m not feeling any pain at all from hitting it. Weird. Maybe it''s because I just got a whole lot stronger."
Tyler tightened the palms of his fists. Then, with astonishing speed, he unleashed a flurry of punches ¨C right, left, right, left ¨C in what seemed to Grone like the blink of an eye. The speed of his fists was blurring. In less than a minute, the system panel appeared before Tyler:
Chamber has received too much damage. Durability has fallen to zero. Chamber cannot hold.
The chamber, with a series of loud cracks, shattered into countless shards of shining metal, collapsing into a heap of scrap iron. On top of the pile, the word *EXTRACT* shimmered into existence.
"So that''s what happens," Tyler murmured, his gaze fixed on the shimmering word.
"Extract," Tyler murmured, watching the heap of iron metal vanish. A slow smile spread across his face. *This is awesome. That means I can just use this thing to copy any material I want. Just make the chamber, have lots of material in the process...*
A groan escaped Grone''s lips as he shifted his injured shoulder. "Those metal scraps that just disappeared... they are now materials that you can use to craft, am I right?"
Tyler nodded. "Yeah, oh, I almost forgot about this, but can you give me some more of that holy water? There''s some left, right?"
"Yes, of course," Grone replied, reaching into his bag and producing the water pouch.
Tyler received it, opened his palm, and a vial materialized. He poured the holy water into the vial. "Craft healing potion," he commanded.
A blue system panel appeared, reading: Crafting... The circular loading bar filled instantly. Another panel followed: Crafting successful.
A potion materialized in Tyler''s open palm. "Here," he said, offering it to Grone. "I''m sure this one will do the job."
Grone accepted the potion and drank it. As soon as he finished drinking the potion, Grone''s skin glowed a faint green.
Grone felt the warmth of the potion spread through him. The pain in his body, the aches in his joints from the brutal fight, began to recede. The bleeding from his shoulder wound, inflicted by the Alpha''s bite, stopped, the edges of the wound drawing together. A little bit of energy flowed back into him; it was as if the exertion of battle had never happened. No lingering pain, no scar¡ªnothing. He was utterly astonished.
"I''ve been fully healed," Grone said, his voice filled with wonder.
Tyler nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yes, it heals 30% of your injuries. Seems like I got it all wrong when I said it doesn''t heal fatal injuries. But it seems like 30% doesn''t mean fatal. It just means... well, I guess 30%."
"Well, anyway, thank you," Grone said, extending his hand to return the vial.
"All right, I guess we have to go now¡ª" Tyler began, but his words were cut short by a sudden, sharp *whoosh* that sliced through the air. The sound was followed by the *shink* of metal against glass. A katana-like sword, impossibly fast, had grazed Grone''s palm, slicing through the vial before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. Glass shards rained down as Grone instinctively recoiled, his hand stinging.
The katana, seemingly moving of its own accord, spun end over end a few feet away, its polished surface glinting in the dappled sunlight. It then arced through the air, a deadly crescent of steel, before returning to the point from which it had come.
The unexpected attack left both men momentarily speechless. Then, with practiced efficiency, Tyler''s axe materialized in his hand, its polished head gleaming menacingly. Grone, mirroring Tyler''s action, swiftly unsheathed his own sword, the polished steel singing a silent song of readiness.
From the undergrowth, where the katana had vanished, Grone¡¯s eyes widened and Tyler¡¯s brow shot up in confusion. Three figures emerged from the trees, walking towards them across the clearing: Gary, Bernardo, and Steven. Gary, in the center, held the katana, a predatory grin splitting his face.
"Old man," Gary drawled, his voice laced with amusement. "I didn''t think I''d see you here."
Steven nodded, his gaze fixed on Tyler, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, it really is him. That''s the guy I was talking about."
Bernardo simply stared at Tyler, his expression openly hostile.
Tyler''s mind raced. *Wait, isn''t that¡ªisn''t he supposed to be in prison right now? What is he even doing here? And him¡* His attention shifted to Steven. *He once tried to attack me when I came from that quest that time¡ Do they all know each other?*
Grone¡¯s voice was sharp, laced with concern. "Gary, what are you doing?"
Gary''s grin widened, revealing a flash of teeth. "Well, isn''t it obvious? Remember that promise I once made to you, before you became a C-Rank? I promised you that if I met you in the Monster Zones, it might be the last time people saw you alive. And I wasn''t kidding¡ª"
"Brother," Steven interrupted, his voice tight with urgency.
Gary snapped at him, his tone sharp. "What? Can''t you see I''m talking here?"
"That guy''s a D-Rank now," Steven insisted, ignoring Gary''s outburst.
Bernardo, having witnessed this exchange, felt his heart pound in his chest. But then, his gaze fell upon Tyler''s armor and axe, and a different kind of excitement surged through him. *Those things are going to bring me a whole lot of gold,* he thought, a calculating glint entering his eyes.
Chapter 58: The Assassins Dance
An uncomfortable tension hung heavy in the air. Gary¡¯s gaze drifted from Tyler¡¯s necklace to his face, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I remember you now. You''re that punk that came with Grone the other time, right? So you *were* a hunter this entire time? And you''re a D-Rank."
Steven nodded, a flicker of something akin to surprised recognition in his eyes. "Yeah, no wonder he was capable of overwhelming me that much that other time. There was no way he was an E-Rank."
Grone¡¯s voice was tight with apprehension. "So what? You''ve come here to kill me?"
Gary chuckled, a chilling sound. "Well, of course. At first, I came here to kill *this* brat," he gestured towards Tyler with the tip of his katana, "for messing with my little brother. But when I saw you¡ I''m sorry, but I just can''t resist." He took a step closer, the air crackling with menace.
Tyler¡¯s curiosity was answered as system panels appeared above the three newcomers, displaying their levels: Bernardo (Level 35), Steven (Level 41), and Gary (Level 74). Tyler''s heart pounded. Gary was far stronger than anyone he''d ever encountered before. He spoke, his voice calm. "He''s not wrong. I think I told you about someone who tried to attack me right after I saved him. That''s the guy standing beside him."
Gary shot a sharp glance at his brother, Steven. "Saved him? Wait, he saved you? From what?"
Steven met his brother¡¯s gaze, his voice a stammering whisper. ¡°Um, well, he¡ªhe saved me from a slime, but it¡¯s not what you think¡ª¡±
The words died in his throat as Gary¡¯s hand lashed out, a stinging slap that landed squarely on his cheek. Gary¡¯s voice, when it came, was a low growl, thick with contempt. ¡°You got saved from a *slime*? Are you truly trying to bring our family shame?¡±
Bernardo, Grone, and Tyler stared, stunned by the sudden eruption of violence. Steven didn¡¯t react, didn¡¯t even flinch. He simply hung his head, the shame evident in the slump of his shoulders, the crimson flush creeping up his neck. His silence was more damning than any protest.
Gary¡¯s gaze flickered, a cold calculation replacing the initial fury. ¡°That¡¯s not how you said it happened,¡± he stated, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. A cruel smile twisted his lips. ¡°You know what? I have a bright idea. Why don¡¯t you face him, huh? Why don¡¯t you bring back our family¡¯s honor?¡±
With a harsh shove to Steven¡¯s back, Gary propelled his younger brother forward. This time, the force of the blow sent Steven stumbling towards Tyler. Tyler and Grone, already in a fighting stance with their swords drawn, stood poised, ready for whatever might follow, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.
Steven stumbled, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and resentment. ¡°What? You want me to face them alone?¡± he protested, his voice barely a squeak.
Gary¡¯s smile was predatory. ¡°Oh no, I just want you to face that D-Rank over there. You¡¯re both D-Ranks, aren¡¯t ya? Then why are you scared?¡±
Steven shook his head, his voice strained. ¡°No, it¡¯s just that¡ I don¡¯t think the other guy is just going to stand there. If I fight him¡¡±
Gary cut him off with a dismissive wave. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m going to handle him.¡± His gaze shifted to Bernardo, who stood frozen, watching the unfolding drama with a mixture of apprehension and morbid curiosity. ¡°Hey, you. You¡¯re in this too, right? You¡¯re going to have to face that D-Rank too.¡±
Bernardo¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What? But I¡ª¡±
Gary¡¯s voice was a venomous hiss. ¡°Man, you¡¯re a coward. It¡¯s two against one. Stop bitching and get on with it already.¡±
Grone¡¯s lips curved into a subtle smile as he watched Bernardo and Steven approach Tyler, their expressions a mixture of bravado and apprehension. *They still think he¡¯s a D-Rank,* he mused, *but they don¡¯t know he¡¯s a C-Rank, and not a normal one at that.*
Gary noticed the subtle shift in Grone¡¯s expression, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. It grated on his nerves. ¡°What¡¯s so funny, old man?¡± he snapped, his voice sharp.
Grone¡¯s smile vanished, replaced by a look of grim determination as he met Gary¡¯s gaze. ¡°That¡¯s what pisses me off the most,¡± Gary spat, his voice dripping with venom. ¡°That smile of yours. Always getting the smallest quests, fewer rewards, and always smiling like an idiot. You really don¡¯t deserve to be a hunter, you know that? I told you to quit, but you never listen. That just shows how stupid you are.¡±
Tyler¡¯s voice cut through Gary¡¯s tirade. ¡°Shut up. Look around you. You¡¯re the one that¡¯s obviously retarded. Can¡¯t you see all these hideless monsters we just killed?¡± He gestured to the corpses of the crimson wolves scattered around them, their flayed bodies a stark contrast to the green of the forest floor. ¡°You still don¡¯t think he deserves to be a hunter?¡±
Gary bristled. ¡°You shut your trap, I wasn¡¯t even talking to you.¡± He turned his attention back to his brother and Bernardo. ¡°Why the hell are you still standing there? Kill that bastard already!¡±
Grone reacted instantly, his right hand a blur as he unleashed his slash attack. An invisible blade of wind, propelled by the force of his swing, shot towards Gary. Gary, however, grinned, easily sidestepping the invisible projectile with practiced ease, his eyes gleaming with predatory amusement as he continued his advance towards Grone. The distance between them remained significant; the attack, while swift, had been launched from several feet away.
Gary activated his sword skill, a short wave of energy that manifested as a slightly visible blade of wind heading towards Grone. Grone reacted swiftly, rolling to his right to avoid the attack, creating more distance between himself and Tyler.
Meanwhile, Steven arrived before Tyler, his sword a blur as he swung it with both hands in a wide, upward arc. The attack, surprisingly slow, allowed Tyler to easily bend backward, his shoulder tilting to avoid the blow. He stepped forward, his fist coiling with power. With a roar, Tyler unleashed a powerful punch that connected squarely with Steven¡¯s forehead. A sharp *boom* echoed through the clearing. Steven''s eyes widened; *Shit,* he thought, just before the fist connected, the impact sending him sprawling backward. His body tumbled, his back striking a tree trunk with a heavy thud.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Gary stopped, momentarily surprised by the swiftness and power of Tyler¡¯s strike. Seizing the opportunity, Bernardo charged, drawing his dagger. He roared, swinging the blade down in a vicious arc aimed at Tyler¡¯s chest.
Tyler, however, reacted with astonishing speed. He grabbed Bernardo¡¯s wrist, his eyes locking with Bernardo¡¯s. ¡°You,¡± Tyler said, his voice low and dangerous, ¡°I didn¡¯t pay you back for those hits you gave me that time.¡±
Bernardo¡¯s eyes widened in alarm as Tyler released his axe, the weapon vanishing into his inventory with a blue flash. Then, with a brutal uppercut, Tyler struck Bernardo in the gut, the force of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs. With a sharp twist, Tyler dislocated Bernardo¡¯s wrist, forcing him to release his dagger. The weapon clattered to the ground.
Tyler then let his wrist go and quickly followed with a punch to the face then another to the chest and another and another. Bernardo couldn''t react to Tyler''s punches but blow felt like he was getting hit by a rock. Tyler then landed a final blow on his chest as he felt crack pushing Bernardo causing him to stumble backwards. Bernardo stopped vomiting blood on to the forest floor while holding chest in pain and breathing heavily. Gary was shocked and thought *What the hell''s going? Is a D-rank supposed to that fast?* Gary''s thoughts where cut short by Grone suddenly charging at him with a downwards slash. Gary met it with a an upward parry pushing Grone back. " Your boy''s strong what level is he?" Gary asked. "You think am just gonna tell you that?" Grone said getting back in his fighting stance. Gary laughed looking at Grone and said " You know, seeing taking a stance like that makes wanna toy with you a little. " The kanata he was holding then started floating in his hand. Tyler saw this and decided to equip the iron axe as it materialised in his hand. Steven got up and a drop of blood rolled from his fore head splitting his face.
Tyler released Bernardo¡¯s wrist. Before Bernardo could react, a lightning-fast right hook slammed into his jaw, sending his head snapping to the side. The impact echoed through the clearing. Before he could recover, a brutal uppercut smashed into his solar plexus, doubling him over. Another punch, a straight right to the chest, followed, the force of it driving the air from his lungs. He staggered back, trying desperately to defend himself, but Tyler was relentless. A left hook to the ribs, then another straight right to the jaw, sent him reeling. He tasted blood. A final, bone-jarring blow to the sternum¡ªa straight right delivered with the full force of Tyler''s body weight¡ªcracked something inside Bernardo''s chest. He stumbled backward, collapsing onto the forest floor, a torrent of blood erupting from his mouth as he gasped for air, clutching his chest.
Gary stared, shocked. *What the hell¡¯s going on? Is a D-Rank supposed to be that fast?* His thoughts were interrupted by Grone, who charged, his sword descending in a powerful downward slash. Gary met the attack with a swift upward parry, pushing Grone back.
¡°Your boy¡¯s strong,¡± Gary said, a hint of grudging respect in his voice. ¡°What level is he?¡±
¡°You think I¡¯m just gonna tell you that?¡± Grone retorted, regaining his fighting stance.
Gary laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. ¡°You know, seeing you take a stance like that makes me wanna toy with you a little.¡± The katana in his hand began to float, seemingly of its own accord.
Tyler, witnessing this display of power, decided to equip his iron axe. The weapon materialized in his hand with a metallic clang.
Steven groaned, pushing himself up from the ground. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead, staining his cheek. A round shield materialized in his hand. Tyler paused, his gaze shifting to Steven, who now stood beside the groaning Bernardo.
¡°Is this guy really a D-Rank?¡± Bernardo gasped, clutching his chest. ¡°He¡¯s far stronger than both of us. I think he even compares to your brother.¡±
¡°Shut up! There¡¯s no way he can compare to my brother!¡± Steven roared, a primal scream that ripped through the tense silence of the forest. He charged, a human battering ram, shield held high, a bulwark against the storm that was about to break. Tyler¡¯s eyes, however, remained calm, his gaze fixed on Steven as a system panel shimmered into existence before him: *Steven Brunch has activated skill: Quick Step.* The words burned into his mind, but a wry smile played on his lips. *Increased speed, yes, but he''s still slow.*
Steven¡¯s attack was a whirlwind of motion, a desperate, furious flurry of steel. His sword, a deadly extension of his rage, stabbed, slashed, and thrust, aiming for Tyler¡¯s abdomen, then his chest, then his side. Each strike was a testament to his newfound speed, a blur of motion that would have overwhelmed a lesser opponent. But Tyler was no ordinary opponent. He moved like a phantom, a whisper of motion in the heart of the storm. He sidestepped the initial thrust, the sword¡¯s point passing agonizingly close to his abdomen, the chill of steel a ghost against his skin. He danced, a deadly ballet of evasion, each movement precise, each dodge calculated, as he effortlessly evaded the relentless assault.
Then, a new threat emerged. A system panel flashed before Tyler''s eyes: *Bernardo has activated skill: Throw.* Before he could fully process the warning, a deadly projectile hurtled towards him¡ªBernardo''s dagger, a silver streak of death launched with surprising force and accuracy. Even as he continued his deadly dance with Steven, his head snapped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade. The dagger grazed his cheek, leaving a shallow cut.
Tyler''s eyes flared, a brief, intense blue light illuminating his gaze for a fraction of a second. It was a fleeting moment, but in that instant, his movements transcended human speed. He launched himself, a coiled spring unleashed, his body a blur of motion. His leg, a weapon of devastating power, connected with Steven''s shield in a spinning kick that echoed through the trees. The impact was deafening, a thunderous CRASH that sent tremors through the ground. Steven, his body a ragdoll, was hurled into the air, a tortured groan escaping his lips. Bernardo looked up, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe, as Steven flew over him landing behind him. A deep, star-shaped dent was gouged into Steven''s shield, a testament to the raw power of Tyler''s strike.
Gary, witnessing this breathtaking display of skill and power, halted his advance. His blade, still floating menacingly in the air, remained motionless. He immediately turned and ran towards Tyler. Grone, sensing the shift in the battle, attempted to intercept Gary, but Gary willed his floating katana to intercept Grone. The blade swerved, intercepting Grone''s path. Grone parried the unexpected attack, sending the blade spinning, only to have it return, seemingly under Gary''s control.
The katana, a blur of motion, whizzed past Grone''s head, narrowly missing his neck as he dodged with a desperate lunge. Gary materialized before Tyler, his dagger flashing in the sunlight as he brought it down in a swift, brutal arc. Tyler reacted instantly, his iron axe materializing in his hands with a metallic clang. He raised the axe, bracing himself as Gary''s dagger slammed into the axe''s hilt. A sharp *ting!* resonated through the air, a sound that spoke of immense force. The impact sent a jolt up Tyler''s arms, forcing his left knee to buckle slightly under the pressure. His teeth clenched, his jaw muscles taut, as he strained against Gary''s relentless attack.
Gary smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. "It seems you''re stronger than the old man," he taunted, his voice laced with a chilling amusement. "Able to take down my brother in a few blows like that. But I''m different. I''m not my brother." He increased the pressure on his attack, forcing Tyler''s left knee to the ground.
Grone, meanwhile, was locked in a desperate struggle against Gary''s erratically flying katana. He parried and dodged, his movements a whirlwind of defensive maneuvers, but the blade seemed to anticipate his every move, its trajectory unpredictable, its attacks relentless. He found himself thinking, *How is he doing that? Fighting Tyler and controlling the blade at the same time. It''s almost like the blade has a will of its own. It must have taken him months to master this skill to this extent.*
Bernardo, watching Tyler struggle, clutched his still-aching chest. Each breath sent a searing pain through his ribs; he felt a sickening crack with every inhale and exhale, a constant reminder of Tyler''s brutal assault. *It hurt like hell when I used my skill,* he thought grimly, *and I thought that was going to finish him off, but it just made my situation worse. Why did I come here anyway? This is so stupid. I can''t believe I also had a side thought that maybe if I killed some monsters, maybe I could become a hunter too. Maybe I wouldn''t have to steal from people. Ugh, what am I thinking? I have to focus on getting out of here alive. But it looks like that guy''s brother''s got the upper hand. Why did he make us fight them anyway? That freaking bastard.*
Tyler¡¯s eyes flared, glowing an intense blue for a fleeting instant. With a guttural grunt, he channeled every ounce of his strength, pushing against Gary¡¯s relentless pressure. Gary¡¯s confident smirk faltered as he felt Tyler¡¯s strength surge¡ªa raw power that belied his outward appearance. He watched, surprised, as Tyler slowly but surely began to rise, pushing back against the force of his attack. A cold dread began to creep into Gary''s heart. *What the hell? Shit, just like I thought. This supposed D-Rank is a fake. He¡¯s definitely a C-Rank. What is he, an assassin?*
Tyler, with a final surge of power, pushed Gary off balance. Gary stumbled back, only two steps, but he recovered his footing with surprising agility. The unexpected display of strength surprised both Gary and the watching Bernardo. Gary¡¯s grin returned, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he adopted a fighting stance. Tyler gasped, as if drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, and mirrored Gary¡¯s stance, his axe held ready.
Bernardo¡¯s thoughts raced, a whirlwind of fear and disbelief. *Damn it, what¡¯s going on now? Could it be that this guy is actually stronger than Gary?* The thought sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes widened, his body trembling involuntarily. He took a step back, then another, and another, the instinct to flee overwhelming him. *If that¡¯s the case, then we¡¯re screwed. I have to get out of here.*
Gary, his gaze locked on Tyler, spoke, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. ¡°What are you, an assassin? Even if you say you are, you¡¯re a strange one, I can tell you that. That weapon you have¡ªit just appeared out of nowhere. Seems like you might have a skill similar to my brother¡¯s, but that¡¯s not going to give you an advantage.¡±
As Gary spoke, a system panel appeared before Tyler: Gary Brunch has activated skill: Gap.